Conflict with the Others
by hjr
Summary: This story is a continuation of the events at the end of Exodus. After being kidnappeed, Walt is forced to work in underground mines for the Others, and is helped throughout by Alex, another prisoner in this story.
1. The Abduction

Title: Conflict with the Others

Rating: T for violence and some generally unpleasant scenes. The Others are not nice people.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or any of its characters. That may or may not be a good thing, but major characters would have a greater life expectancy, and Walt would appear a lot more often in Season 2.

Summary: This story takes place after the events at the end of Exodus. Do not read if you have not seen the season finale.

I want this to be significantly different from all the other post-Exodus stories, many of which are quite good. Consequently, in this story Walt will grow rapidly, to correspond to the fact that the actor playing him grows a year during a Lost Season, which is only about six weeks. This will also feature a different Alex from any I've seen.

* * *

Walt is taken to his new living quarters.

* * *

As the motorboat sped away from the raft that had just been ignited, Walt was yelling "Dad! Dad! Dad!" at his father who was treading water, and helpless to assist him. Walt screamed until his voice gave out, and the flaming raft disappeared beyond the night horizon. Extreme jubilation at the prospect of being rescued had turned into utter disconsolation at the realization that he was irretrievably kidnapped in just a couple of minutes. 

For the Others, their moment of triumph had nearly been ruined. One of the raft crew had tried to shoot them, and it took a very well aimed shot to hit his arm and knock the gun out of his hand. They had captured the boy whom they needed to cure their sickness, but knew that in order for his mental capabilities to be used to their advantage, he must not be in a state of extreme agitation that would be caused by the death of his father or his friends. Their plan would only work so long as Walt had hope of seeing Michael and the other castaways again. But the Others did need a good head start, and had to incapacitate the raft. They had to take a chance kidnapping him like this; there simply was no other way.

In a state of shock, and vastly outnumbered by the kidnappers, the Others, armed with guns, Walt was powerless to stop them from ripping off his life jacket, and then binding his ankles with rope. One of the Others sat across from Walt with an evil look on his face and holding another rope. Walt expected him to tie his wrists together as well, but for some unfathomable reason he didn't. The boat sped back to the island, and circled around the west side until it was a few meters from a sandy shore on the southwest side of the island. The Other then yanked off Walt's shoes and socks from his bound feet. Next, sitting next to Walt, a second Other, who could have been the first one's twin, grabbed Walt's hands, holding them straight over his head. To Walt's consternation the first Other pulled Walt's shirt off over his head, and only then did he tie Walt's hands. This Other seized Walt's shirt from the open neck with both hands, and gave it a good rip.

"What are you doing?" yelled an apprehensive Walt.

"You're supposed to be smart, let's see you figure that out. And it's not that we're perverts. Now be quiet, and hold still."

Walt was too frightened to move as the first Other then took his knife and cut off Walt's knee-length shorts uncomfortably high on his thighs, and tore those as well. "This should be enough."

Walt was puzzled as he watched as the first Other jumped out of the boat, and scattered Walt's clothes along the beach. Then he disappeared from sight, apparently headed up some trail still carrying Walt's torn striped shirt. A few minutes later he returned, carrying a flashlight he had all along, but not the shirt. He boarded the boat, and they took off again. Emotionally spent and physically exhausted, Walt could only just sit there and await his unhappy fate. On this last part of the boat ride they circled almost halfway around the island to the north shore. Dawn was just breaking, and Walt could see that they rode into a cave whose entrance was covered over by hanging leafy tree branches and assorted bushes. Then Walt understood.

"They'll look for me. And my dog will find my scent, and lead them to the wrong place. It'll look like I put up a fight, and they'll be looking for me in completely the wrong place. Just like people looked for our plane in the wrong place." Walt wasn't speaking to anyone in particular; he was just announcing a newly discovered fact in a voice rather devoid of emotion. There was no way he was leaving an identifiable scent for Vincent the way he was transported into the cave. The realization made him shiver, or perhaps he was a little cold. He didn't expect his captors to do anything about that, and didn't ask.

"See, the kid ain't so dumb."

The boat moved along a channel, and docked. There were a total of four Others on the boat; besides the twins there was an older man, who was apparently the leader, and a middle-aged woman who had been at the helm and who threw the Molotov cocktail that exploded on the raft. They all disembarked. Walt's feet were untied, and he was escorted along a corridor, and down a long flight of stairs. He was no longer shivering, but instead started perspiring, as the temperature seemed to rise with each step downward. The increased heat reminded Walt that he had been getting quite thirsty. Once at the bottom of the steps, they went along another corridor, which really was more of a mine tunnel, and shoved Walt into a cave-like room. This room was furnished with a small table and two heavy iron chairs, but what stood out was a bed, no more than a mattress on a frame, that was outfitted with four manacles connected to chains that were attached to the legs of the bed frame. Walt involuntarily gulped as he saw that last unusual piece of furniture.

Next, Walt was shown a connecting cave room, which would be his bathroom. In a far corner was an object that resembled an outhouse seat. On an opposite wall was a table with a large bowl of water on it. A makeshift pipe led to the center of the bowl. By pulling up a small flat piece of metal, sort of like a gate, inserted into the pipe, water would flow solely under the influence of gravity. Apparently that would have to serve as a source of running water. Besides the bowl there was a glass of water.

"You must be thirsty after your trip; here."

Walt hesitated.

"Geez, it's not poisoned; if we wanted you dead we'd have just shot you," one of the Others observed. "There'd be no point in going to all that trouble of getting you."

Walt's throat had been uncomfortably dry for some time, and in his current state of mind either the logic made sense, or he didn't care any more. He didn't trust the Others, but it was obvious that they wanted him alive. He gulped down the water in seconds. It slaked his thirst, but then he felt exceptionally drowsy. But that made sense, right? He had very little sleep during the night, and had gone through an awful ordeal. Actually, Walt would learn something about a knockout drug known as chloral hydrate some time in the future. For the present, he used his remaining strength to stagger to his bed, and lost consciousness just as he collapsed on it.


	2. An Interpretation of Luck

Locke tries to convince Hurley that he is exaggerating about the bad luck around him.

* * *

Despite Hurley's desperate warning that "The numbers are bad, the number are bad," Locke followed through on his instincts and ignited the fuse that would blow up the hatch. He had expended so much effort and had to wait for so long that nothing was going to stop him when he was this close. Jack had to tackle Hurley to keep him from getting too close at the moment of the explosion, while Kate and Locke had taken cover at a safer distance. Three sticks of dynamite exploded with tremendous force, showering the quartet with chunks of earth and a few metal pieces, but at long last the hatch had been opened. 

As they peered down into the hatch, they could a long vertical cylindrical hole, and part of ladder descending into the darkness. Perhaps ten rungs were intact, with one in the middle being broken. Beyond that, nothing was visible. It was clear that something else would be needed if they were going to make a descent, and equally clear that Locke fully intended to make the descent.

Locke announced, "We will need a rope ladder. Let's see how long it has to be." He found a rock, and dropped it into the hole, timing how long it took to hit the bottom with a watch. When he heard the rock hit the bottom with a thud, he announced, "That was a little over one and a half seconds. That's about …"

"Forty-two feet." Hurley muttered.

Locke performed a mental calculation, and discovered that Hurley's prediction was in the ballpark. He noticed a strange look on Hurley's face, and suggested to him, "I think we need to talk." Hurley nodded his head.

Then speaking out loud to the entire group, Locke declared "We'll have to work on this in daylight; there is no more we can do tonight. The best thing we can do now is to head back to the caves and get some rest." With that, the group picked up their packs except for the one that contained the other three sticks of dynamite, which was left under a tree a decent distance from the path, and set off for the hour-long hike back to the caves.

Jack and Kate led the way back, with Locke and Hurley hanging some distance behind. Kate was beside herself. She had figured out that Jack had switched backpacks with her, thereby breaking his word that he would go along with the decision to let the short straws determine who would carry the dynamite, but that chauvinistic act just saved her life. In the crisis she had run away from the hatch without putting her pack down carefully as Jack and Locke had done. Had she been carrying the explosives she would have been blown to pieces like the recently departed Dr. Arzt. She wanted to throttle and thank Jack at the same time, but ended up just walking along in an uneasy silence. She felt she had to prove herself in some way since most of the islanders now regarded her as some kind of unwelcome criminal, but this so far this expedition was not going to be the answer. Jack had a smug sense of satisfaction regarding his actions, but was pretty sure this was not the time to confront Kate.

When Jack and Kate were sufficiently far ahead, Locke spoke, "So Hurley, do you have something you'd like to say? Looks like you'll burst if you don't tell someone."

"The numbers are bad luck, man, you shouldn't have blown open the hatch."

"What do you mean 'the numbers' are bad? Are you keeping something from the rest of us?"

"And you aren't?" Hurley sighed. He would have to explain himself some time anyway. "Okay, those numbers on the hatch – 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42, a friend of mine in the military heard them being broadcast from some radio in the middle of the ocean. They looked for the source, but never found it. Those were the numbers – like a serial number – on the hatch. Anyway, as a lark I used those numbers for the lottery – and won. And ever since, bad luck befalls everyone around me, but not me myself. My grandfather died right after I won, my mother broke her ankle, the house I bought her burned down, other friends died within weeks, and just now there was Arzt. I tell you, it's a curse!"

"Dare I ask how much you won?"

"Why don't we say I could pay off my backgammon debt to Walt and would never notice. And I'm going to give it to him if we both get off this island. Of course I wouldn't have tried to collect anything if I had won."

"There you go. Walt apparently didn't get any of that bad luck you claim to give anyone near you."

"Walt is different somehow. There's something weird about the lil' dude. I never saw such luck in backgammon. Why, when I once entered a statewide tournament in California and came in seventeenth. That's out of a couple thousand entrants. Maybe I should play you some time if you don't believe me."

"Oh, I believe you," replied Locke. "Please go on."

"Anyway, my friend with the numbers said his buddy in Australia knew the story behind them. That's why I went there. And the funny thing is, I bumped into Walt at the airport on the way there. Literally. I was distracted by the numbers, and he was concentrating on some hand-held video game. Based on what I know now he must have been there with his mother and stepfather, and one of them had just flown in from somewhere and was met by the other and Walt. Of course you can guess who won in the collision. In order to keep from falling on his butt Walt jumped backwards and dropped his game, but I'm kinda agile and stuck my foot out, almost catching the game, but breaking its fall so it didn't get broken. Walt thanked me and I never thought I'd see him again. And then on the flight home, there he is again, playing the same game, now with Michael of course, and he recognizes me and gives me a big smile! Somehow he is immune to my bad luck, so he probably shouldn't count."

"I think you're guilty of selective memory. There have been occasions here on the island were being near you was good luck. Take Claire for instance. Right after the crash, she couldn't move, and you helped her get to safety before a large piece of flaming debris fell on her. You saved her life. In fact, two lives: Claire and her baby. I'd say that Claire was the beneficiary of excellent luck for being near you at that time. Good and bad luck happens to everybody; you tend to obsess about the bad."

Hurley stopped. Maybe there was something to what Locke was saying. Hurley felt better, but wasn't completely convinced.

Locke went on, "Hasn't anything happened to you that you would consider bad luck?"

Hurley thought, "Well, I've been sick a couple times, but so have a lot of people, so that doesn't really mean anything. Wait a minute – I stepped on a sea urchin once when trying to learn how to fish from Jin. It hurt a lot at the time, but now it doesn't seem like such a big deal. I still say people around me have much more bad luck than I do."

They had just reached the caves, when Locke decided that this was the time to make Hurley a permanent ally, someone he could count on being on his side. "Another person who was sitting near you on that plane received quite a bit of good luck. A few rows behind you and on your left. You want to hear a secret?"

"All right. You owe me one for my lottery story."

"Sounds fair. You remember a wheelchair from the plane that landed on the beach?"

"Sure I remember, Charlie and Claire were using it to move their stuff up the beach, and just now up to the caves. It must still be around somewhere; it's useful for moving heavy stuff around."

"Well, that wheelchair was for me."


	3. Travails of the Raft Crew

Reviews are still welcome, inspirational, and taken into consideration as I plan future chapters.

To Anon: Walt will be featured in the next chapter.

* * *

The Raft Crew struggles to get back to the island.

* * *

Michael helplessly treaded water as he watched the motorboat speed away, forlornly crying "Waaaaaaaaalllllllllt!. Just as it appeared that they were going to be rescued from that godforsaken island, Michael had been dealt an extremely cruel blow in an instant. Over the last several days he had excellent progress in bonding with his son after a very rough start, and now Walt had just been snatched from him, with a possibility of never seeing each other again.

The devastated father was slapped out of his state of shock by a hand sporting a handcuff. Jin was shouting something incomprehensible, but obviously had been dragging Sawyer back to the raft. Jin himself had a most disagreeable decision to make seconds earlier. Should he rescue Sawyer, who had just fallen overboard after having been shot, or stay to help Michael try to fight off the attackers? Jin decided that since the kidnappers were armed with guns, stopping them immediately was hopeless. It was senseless to get himself and Michael shot as well, although it was agonizing to leave Michael and Walt in such a hopeless position.

Regaining his senses, Michael clambered onto the raft, and with Jin, pulled Sawyer up. Michael had mixed feelings about Sawyer, but now that man had just taken a bullet in an attempt to save his son. Michael felt obligated to repay the favor. Furthermore, having an additional able-bodied man around would increase the chances that Walt could be rescued. Michael then found a ray of hope. As the last trace of the powerboat disappeared from view, he realized that it had sped off in the direction of the island. If somehow he could get back there, he could instigate a search and rescue operation. It was a large island, but he would do whatever it took.

Regrettably, it was clear that Sawyer would not be able-bodied for some time. He had been shot in the right shoulder, and was bleeding profusely. With most of the supplies on the raft being destroyed or blown into the water by the Molotov cocktail, the raft crew had nothing but the clothes on their backs to use as bandages. Fortunately Michael and Jin had not lost their pocketknives, and they were able to tear neat strips from their and Sawyer's shirts. Michael was greeted by a howl of agony as wrapped the first strip around Sawyer's wounded shoulder. The cloth that had been soaked in salt water was not a very pleasant thing to apply to the wound to say the least. The first strip of cloth bled through quickly, and Jin promptly removed it and applied another. This time it was apparent that the bleeding was slowing down, but not enough to make anyone relax.

While Jin was attending to Sawyer, Michael surveyed the damage done to his masterpiece with a small pocket flashlight. Surprisingly, the damage was not as devastating as he first thought. The mast was broken, but most of the deck was intact. The rudder was bent, but still might be used. Unfortunately, the cabin had pretty much disintegrated. The only provisions he could find were two bottles of water that had been thrown into of what was left of a corner of the cabin. The biggest stroke of fortune, however, was that since the sail had been rolled down, it was barely singed.

Realizing that time was of the essence, Michael and Jin managed to communicate agreement that they would try to get as much of the mast in place as possible, and raise the sail on it. This was a difficult task in the dark. A log that was roughly half the length of the original mast had to be propped up and secured to the deck, and they had to use some rope that was holding together some logs in a corner of the deck that they considered not too important now. The logs they cut free could be used as poles or oars if necessary. With their combined determination the makeshift mast was completed in a quarter of an hour, and in another five minutes the sail had been raised to almost half its original height. Then Jin had to replace Sawyer's current blood-soaked strip of a shirt with another clean one. It did look like the bleeding had slowed down, but Sawyer was far from out of the woods.

The next decision was to determine in which direction to sail. The best they could do was to select a star in the south-southwest, which was in the general direction that the powerboat had gone. They would have a better idea of the precise direction in the morning, but Sawyer's wound, the possibility of infection if not treated within a day or so, and the shortage of water compelled them to get going as quickly as they could. Consequently, Michael took hold of the log connected to the rudder and did his best to proceed in the indicated direction.

As dawn broke, the raftmen could see the mountain on the north end of their island in the distance. They had made some progress, but the current and bent rudder had taken them too far to the west. Jin dived into the water to see what he could do about fixing the rudder, but without any tools there wasn't anything he could do. Therefore they aimed the sail and rudder more to the east to compensate.

As the day wore on they decided how to ration the water. Michael and Jin would take one swallow each hour, and Sawyer, in much worse shape, would drink two. In this manner they figured that water supply would last until nightfall, when they should reach land. Also Michael and Jin replaced the blood-soaked bandages with fresh ones, albeit from a rapidly depleting collection of cloth strips, on Sawyer's shoulder every hour. The twenty thousand dollar watch on Michael's wrist, given to him as a present the day before by Jin, was being put to the best use it ever had been.

Navigating the craft was not an easy task. Michael and Jin took turns holding the rudder in place and paddling with a makeshift oar. They had to constantly fight the tendency to drift to the west. Otherwise Arzt's prediction could come true: if they missed the island, their next stop might be Antarctica. As mid-afternoon approached, Michael squinted and turned away as a beam of sunlight caught his eye as he was regarding the mountain, now slipping behind them far to the left. He had to concentrate; he had to make it back to shore and begin the search for Walt. Even though that kidnapping was impossible to foresee and there was nothing he could have done, Michael felt that he had failed Walt. Michael had to set things right; he just had to.

Jin was having similar feelings with regard to Sun. He felt it was his obligation to save her, to find some outside source of help and rescue the plane crash survivors. He could not be of any help if he didn't make it back to shore. He realized now that more than anything else he wanted to see Sun again, and live the rest of their lives together, the way it was supposed to be. But he couldn't truly be happy as long as the man next to him, who had gone through this horrible experience with him, was missing his son. Jin vowed that he would do whatever it took to find Walt and reunite him with Michael. Jin's bond with Sun was now strong enough that he was certain she would feel the same way.

There was a question of where they wanted to make landfall. If they picked a random location on the west side of the island, they wouldn't know where the rest of their group was, and also wouldn't know where to find fresh water. It didn't look like Sawyer was in good shape for walking unassisted, and transporting Sawyer by land would be slower and harder than by sea, so they got close to the west shore and continued south. Had they been a little closer and earlier in the day, they might have seen a yellow lifejacket on the southwest shore, but twilight was fast approaching. In another half an hour, they decided they must land before it got dark, even though they were short of their goal of the beach on the south side of the island. They sailed the raft until it got stuck a few meters from shore, drank the last of their water, and disembarked the ill-fated craft. Sawyer's right arm dangled uselessly, so Jin and Michael fashioned a sling out of the remaining cloth strips. Then the trio headed along the beach toward the south, trying to keep Sawyer's damaged arm immobilized and from becoming worse. Their occasional shouts for help met with no reply; they were definitely too far away from the caves where everyone else was at. Walking with the aid of just a pair of pocket flashlights, progress was slow, but they eventually reached their goal of the beach camp at nearly 10 pm. At that point Sawyer collapsed completely, and took Michael with him. The group had had nothing to eat for a full day, and was utterly exhausted. Jin wasn't confident that he could make it to the caves alone, and quickly fell asleep on the beach with his crewmates.


	4. A Task for Walt

Walt finds out what the Others want him to do, and meets someone new.

* * *

After about twenty-three hours, Walt woke to find himself starving and staring at an unfamiliar cave ceiling. He had hoped that the events of the past night only comprised the worst nightmare of his life, but as he became fully conscious, realized that was not the case. His next observation was that there was a manacle, attached to a chain connected to a bed leg, on his right wrist. To his surprise, the inside of the manacle was padded, so that the edge didn't cut his hand. Perhaps the idea was to ensure he wasn't hurt while being restrained. 

Not expecting success, Walt rolled off the bed, and tried to pull the chain loose from the bed leg to which it was attached. The noise attracted the attention of the Others, and two of them entered. One spoke:

"I see you're up. Come, it's time to tell you what you're going to do for us."

"I'm not going to do anything for you! You just left my father and friends to die!"

The Others unlocked the manacle, and told Walt to wash up and have some fruit that had been placed on the table in his room. At this point he wouldn't have minded if the fruit had been drugged, so he wouldn't have to face the Others again, but soon came to the conclusion that they wanted him well rested and awake for whatever it was to come.

When he was finished eating, the Others grabbed Walt's arms and marched him up the corridor they had traversed early that morning, around a corner, and into another room fashioned out of a cave chamber. Walt shuddered at the sight of various chains, and a whip in a holder attached to the wall. He was led to a position facing a wall. As two of the Others held his arms straight up, a third secured a manacle, each attached to a chain and padded on the inside again, to each wrist. Next, that Other pulled down on the chains, which evidently ran over pulleys, and caused Walt's hands to be raised high over his head, to the point where his heels were just able to remain on the ground. Turning his head to the side, he was able to see an Other remove the whip from its holster. Walt shuddered as the Other lightly stroked his back from top to bottom with the tip of the whip.

What Walt didn't know at the time was that the Others needed him in top physical condition, and never had any intention to whip him. This was just an act to scare him into submission. They pretended to argue:

"You don't need to whip the boy. Let's show him the raft instead, and he'll cooperate."

"The only way he'll cooperate is if he tastes the sting of this at least once and learns we mean business."

"Give him one chance. If he doesn't cooperate, then you can let him have it."

The voices grew more inaudible, and Walt agonized over his fate. He couldn't believe this was happening. He reflexively tensed for a blow to his back—which never came. After a couple minutes of silence, Walt dared to turn his head. He was alone in the room.

Walt found he could turn his back to the wall, feeling better if he could see what was coming. But apparently nothing was coming. He felt ridiculous stuck there standing with his hands straight up, and now perspiration started streaming down his body. After fifteen minutes he got the idea of pulling down on the chains, but nothing budged. In an attempt to alleviate the increasing aching of his arms, he got up on his tiptoes, moved his hands enough to grab the chains above the manacles, and jumped into a pull-up. He held the raised position for several seconds, again noting the mechanism holding the chains in place was immobile, and then lowered himself slowly to the floor. It was an improvement, with the blood circulating more freely in his arms, although it did make him more sweaty.

In another quarter hour Walt mitigated his discomfort with another pull-up, and then a third about another fifteen minutes later. He started to think if he was going to get whipped, they might as well get it over with. But another possibility was that the Others were messing with his mind. He would have to watch out for that. Finally, after an hour of being confined to that humiliating vertically stretched position, the Others returned.

"We had a little discussion, and took a vote. Turns out there was a tie, so we're gonna let you decide. Half of us think you should be whipped now. Half think it's better that we let you promise to cooperate fully if we take you to see your Daddy's raft to show that he and your friends are okay. You cooperate, no whip. You cross us, and … ," the Other holding the whip cracked it a little to one side of Walt. "So what's it gonna be?"

What kind of a choice was that? The Others were indeed probably messing with his mind, but Walt had to go along. "I promise to cooperate if you let me see my Dad and friends."

"All right then, let's go." But before releasing Walt's hands, the Others clapped more padded manacles connected by a chain half a meter long around Walt's ankles. This would allow him to walk, but not run. Walt was sure they were overdoing it, but the possibility of seeing his father and the fear of the whip prevented him from saying anything. Next, his right hand was released, but promptly placed in a more conventional handcuff. When his left hand was freed, Walt immediately brought it down next to his right hand, in front of him. As Walt hoped, his left hand was quickly cuffed, so that his hands were in front of his body instead of behind his back. What a thing to consider a victory.

The Others led Walt along another corridor and up a long flight of stone steps. Along the way, Walt thought about how he had wanted to be treated like an adult on the island, and why he preferred the company of Locke to that of Michael at the beginning. Several of the adults had been handcuffed—Jin, Kate, Sayid, Sawyer, where there others he didn't know about? And now he was getting his turn. He made a mental note to be more careful what he wished for.

After perhaps fifty meters of climbing, the group entered a small room They must have been part way up the mountain the raft crew had seen from the ocean the day before. A small opening was in a north-facing wall, and incredibly enough, the raft was in better shape than he thought possible, and was visible through it! However, it was too far away, maybe two kilometers from shore, to determine if any the people were on it. Walt said as much, and the prepared Others gave Walt an old-fashioned but operating spyglass. Aiming it to the left, or west, Walt's heart leapt as he could make out the figures of his father and Jin paddling away, although Sawyer was just sitting, leaning against something, maybe a remnant of the cabin. The mid-afternoon sun danced off the waves, and gave Walt an idea. While pretending to be focusing on the raft crew, he angled the spyglass halfway between the sun and the raft, and quickly turned it back on the raft. For a split second it appeared that the sun's reflection caught Michael's eye, as he suddenly flinched, and looked away, but there was no further reaction. That was all Walt could risk attempting. He would now go into his obedient act. Handing back the spyglass, he said, "Okay, I'll do what you ask now."

As a show of good faith, the Others released Walt from the manacles around his feet and the handcuffs. Walt guessed that he was being tested, and an attempt to make a break for it now would result in something very unpleasant. They retraced their steps down the stairs, and right at the bottom stood another of the Others, one that he hadn't seen before, just waiting for any captive to make a run for it. Walt gave himself credit for analyzing this situation correctly.

The group proceeded into the corridor that connected to the stairs, but this time turned right into a new room, which appeared to be some sort of laboratory. Walt was instructed to sit in a heavy steel chair, and groaned inwardly as the twins were at it again, tying him securely to it. It seemed to Walt that the twins were having a race to see who could tie up one side of him the fastest. Within a minute Walt found himself with his arms extended downward and his hands tied to the back chair legs, pinning his shoulder blades to the back of the chair, with more ropes around his ankles and knees connected to the front legs of the chair. The Others then told him to try to get loose, for his own good. That didn't make sense, but those twins had done their job very well. Actually, it appeared that they got a kick out of watching him struggle. Fishermen were supposed to be good with knots, if they really were fishermen, or at least part time. Walt thought, "Isn't all this unnecessary?" He sure wasn't going to be able to do anything for the Others in that position.

Then the leader of the Others entered the room, announcing that he had the explanation. "We were part of a scientific expedition investigating rare and valuable minerals found only in this part of the world. Something went wrong, and we were exposed to something that made us, let us say, unwelcome anywhere else in the world. You don't need to know the details. What you do need to know is that there is an antidote mineral that is present in sufficient quantities in the mines here, but that is impossible to detect with ordinary equipment. However, with suitable preparations, children who have been living here can detect the presence of the mineral. We have conducted enough experiments on animals over the past several years to determine the required substance."

As if on cue, the middle-aged female Other from the boat took a couple of jars and walked over to Walt. She took a cotton swab, moved it around in one jar, and then swabbed Walt's left shoulder with iodine. Next, she filled a syringe from the other jar, announced, "I'm going to be honest, this is going to hurt," and injected the full contents into Walt's defenseless shoulder. In a second he screamed at the pain, and thrashed about wildly, but the only part of his body he could move any significant distance was his head. He strained mightily at the ropes, but they held fast. The reason for the restraints this time was now evident; without them Walt could easily have hurt somebody, including himself. After a minute the pain subsided, and Walt was left with a strange feeling in his head.

When his breathing had returned to close to normal, the Others untied Walt. He promptly set about rubbing his sore wrists. The leader continued, "There is a peculiar property about this mineral. When you are in contact with any infected person, you will lose your ability to detect it for about twenty-four hours. Thus you will start mining it tomorrow. Fortunately, we have someone who is not infected that you can be around, and will serve as your guide. All of our orders will be relayed through her, and you must follow all of them without question. She will show you everything else you need to know.

"Her? She? Who could this be?" thought Walt.

Another Other then escorted a teenage girl through the door.

"Here is your guide now," said the leader. "Her name is Alex."


	5. First Trip down the Hatch

Locke, Kate, and Jack get their first view of what lies beneath the hatch.

* * *

Right after breakfast Jack, Kate, Locke, and Hurley gathered a bunch of supplies and hiked to the hatch. They didn't have enough rope to make a ladder, so they cut down some vines for that purpose. Since one of the visible rungs of the hatch ladder was broken, they decided to anchor their rope ladder to the nearest sturdy tree. They got two long vines, nearly a hundred feet long, and cut off many short pieces for the rungs. Locke appeared to have an uncanny ability to make good knots and tie the rungs at even intervals along the long vines. After a couple hours the ladder was completed and ready to be tested. Locke tied a stone to one end, and lowered it into the hatch to make sure it was long enough.

Turning to Hurley, Locke said, "Now we'll see if this is really 42 feet deep." Locke lowered the rope ladder until he heard the stone hit the bottom, and then marked the ladder at a point where it was level with the hatch opening. He then pulled the ladder up, and using a tape measure he had brought along announced, "See, it's closer to 43 feet."

An ominous thought occurred to Hurley "Could you be more precise?"

"Fine," replied Locke, "it's precisely 42 feet and 8 inches."

"Whoa, dude, 8 is also one of the numbers."

That discovery did not please Locke. Hurley was reverting to being superstitious and obsessed with those numbers.

"What's with those numbers, Hurley?" Kate piped in.

Hurley wasn't ready to tell her or Jack the whole story, so just responded with, "Those numbers were on that French woman's transmission, and they are here on the hatch." Hurley pointed them out. "There's something spooky about that coincidence. You can go down there if you want, but I'm staying up here."

Locke then threw the end of the rope ladder over a nearby tree branch, and tied that end to some roots so that it was ready for a test climb. Three pairs of eyes looked at the fourth.

"All right, guys, I'll test it, as long as I stay above ground," grumbled Hurley. Obviously if the ladder withstood Hurley's weight, anyone else could climb it safely. Hurley took one step up the ladder, and then another. The next thing he knew he was falling a couple feet to the ground, but was agile enough to land on his feet and avoid injury. However, the cause was not the ladder breaking, but rather the branch. The branch missed Hurley, but the far end of it knocked down Jack. Hurley muttered, "See, bad luck happens to anyone near me."

"Jack! Are you all right?" asked Kate.

"Yes, it's just a little scrape and maybe a bruise. I'm fine." Jack got up and walked around with a slight limp to try to convince the others that he was okay. Tofurther convince them of that, he took the end of the ladder with the stone attached, and hurled it himself over another tree branch, thicker than the previous one. He continued, "All right, let's try this again," but this time stepped well away. Hurley's test climb proved to be a success on the second occasion, getting up and down several steps with no more mishaps.

Convinced that the rope ladder was safe, Locke repositioned it, so that the ends of the long vines were tied securely to nearby tree roots, and lowered the other end into the hatch. Before anyone else could react, he started climbing down.

"I should be the next one down," insisted Kate, directed at Jack. "You're too important and injured."

"Let's make sure Locke is okay first, all right?" replied the doctor. "Hey, Locke, you okay?"

"Never better," was the reply from the darkness. "I'm at the bottom, and there are a couple of tunnels here. From what I can tell, they seem very well built."

"I'm coming next!" shouted Kate. She smiled sweetly at Jack. "You and Hurley will hold the ladder steady, won't you?"

"Deal, as long as I make the next trip," answered Jack. He felt that Kate and Locke were too eager to dive into the unknown, and wasn't too uncomfortable letting them precede him. Kate was probably right; if something bad was going to happen down there, it was preferable that it didn't happen to the island's doctor. But his curiosity was overwhelming. He would have to see for himself what had caused such an emotional upheaval in Locke, and soon.

When Kate was safely at the bottom, she and Locke turned on flashlights and proceeded cautiously. The bottom of the hatch was located at a corner, with one tunnel heading north and the other west. The walls of the tunnels were about ten feet apart and remarkably smooth, as if some kind of well-built high precision machine had bored its way through some time ago. The floor was also nice and flat, and there was an occasional drop of water falling from the ceiling, about twelve feet high. The pair walked carefully up the north tunnel. It was rather featureless for a hundred yards, when the path became obstructed by a large number of rocks. There was still a noticeable draft, so there was clearly something continuing on the other side.

Kate and Locke retraced their steps to the bottom of the hatch, and shouted out their findings so far to Jack and Hurley. Then Kate and Locke went down the west corridor. Fifty yards in, they found a heavy metal door set into the north face. Like the exterior of the hatch on the surface, there was no handle or anything to give an indication that it could be opened from the outside. Pressing their ears to it, they could barely hear something, like some kind of machinery, behind the door, but it was far too faint to give them any clue as to what it was. Next, they continued along the corridor, and were surprised to find that it ended at an underground river that flowed from north to south.

Unable to make any more progress for the time being, they returned to the bottom of the hatch. Kate climbed up, and being convinced that it was safe, Jack went down, and got a tour of what had been discovered so far by Locke. In a few minutes they returned, ascended the rope ladder, pulled it up after them, and hid it in some bushes. Then as it was nearing twilight, all four returned to the caves, with much on their minds.


	6. Alex's Story

Alex details the history of herself and the Others.

* * *

The name "Alex" meant nothing to Walt, but her appearance was an entirely different story. She looked to be about been sixteen years old, had pale blue eyes and long, scraggly auburn hair, and a forlorn expression on her face. She was dressed in brief dark gray animal skins, revealing slender limbs, but the kind with a certain sinewy strength as if she had undergone years of hard labor in hot conditions. She hadn't been starved; her stomach was lean and firm, filled out enough so her ribs were barely not visible. But all in all, her features were startlingly reminiscent of the woman Walt had spotted early the morning he had gone on the raft; the woman whose named he had learned was Danielle. The woman he had overheard whose daughter had been missing all these years. 

Walt was shaken from his thoughts by a harsh voice, "Remember all our instructions will be relayed through Alex, and do everything she says or you'll never see your friends again." There was nothing to do but go along for now, and Alex led Walt back to his room. She then explained the situation:

"These people want you because children on this island have some natural ability to detect some unusual mineral that these people claim will cure them of their disease. The children only have this ability at certain ages, approximately eleven to fifteen years old. I was born on this island, and had the ability myself, but it wasn't as strong as yours will be."

"These people are from a geological expedition that was studying minerals found in this region seventeen years ago, when some experiment went bad, and infected all of them. They have been trying to find a cure ever since. A year after that incident, a boat transporting lots of zoo animals ran into a terrible storm and crashed on this island. Almost everyone on board was killed, but my mother lived long enough to give birth to me. She and my father died soon afterward, maybe from the same disease, and I have been raised by these people ever since."

Walt realized that Alex quite likely was not told the truth about her parents, but felt is wisest to keep this information to himself until he learned more of what was going on.

Alex continued, "These people ran many experiments on the zoo animals, trying to find a cure for their disease. Almost all of the animals died in the process, but a few of them are still around. For some reason polar bears have survived the experiments and adapted surprisingly well to this climate. Only recently have these people concluded that they have found the right combination of drugs that enables some living creatures to sense the antidote mineral. Consequently the injection these people gave you is similar to what they gave the last couple polar bears. I want to warn you, there may be side effects. If you don't get any of the symptoms, you're better off not knowing what the side effects are."

"These people tried injecting me with some of their drugs, with limited success. They found I had some ability to sense the mineral, but it was not very strong. Furthermore, it took them a long while to realize that I only had the ability to sense it when none of them was near me for a whole day. Somehow their disease affects this ability; I don't know if anyone understands how, but there is overwhelming evidence that this is the case. We are not sure if I will have the same effect on you; we will find out tomorrow morning."

Alex continued, "These people are well educated, and have taught me a great deal, but the disease has made them not entirely sane. That is a dangerous combination. They are extremely desperate, and it is important that we do as they say. I should let you know that you are worthless to them in anything less than peak physical condition, so they will go out of their way not to harm you, but will do anything to scare you. They were never going to whip you a little while ago, but if you start disobeying them or try to escape, they might. Actually they'll trying something less physically damaging first, but if they feel they have to they'll do whatever it takes. And please don't ask me how I know this; I'd rather not discuss it. One more thing to be aware of: they have a twisted sense of humor."

"Now stay here, it's time for dinner. Remember you have to do as I say; if you don't, they'll punish both of us."

"That's not very fair," commented Walt.

"Haven't you noticed that these people are not exactly fair?" With that Alex left Walt alone for a few minutes.

Walt was astounded by Alex's story, and felt very bad for her. He didn't want to see her hurt, but was not about to stop thinking about how to escape, or help his father and friends rescue him. Making a run for it now would be foolish; no doubt the Others would be prepared, just like they had a guard at the bottom of the stairs in the mountain. He would have to find out all he could, and wait for his chance. In a few minutes Alex returned with a tray containing a good meal. There was meat, vegetables, and fruit, though just water to drink. Still, this would be the best meal he had recently.

Alex may have been reading his thoughts. "Remember these people want you in good physical condition, so you (and me) will be fed well as long as you cooperate. There are enough wild boars outside to provide meat indefinitely, and we have a good vegetable garden. We have found lots of vegetables will grow here, and I have worked a lot on the garden before these people discovered that you were on this island."

Thinking of Sun, Walt offered, "Hey, one of our passengers has been making a nice garden."

"Yes, we know, the Korean woman, Sun. It is fortunate for your group that she survived. These people have spent the last several weeks learning all they can about you. Since I am not a threat to them, they normally speak freely around me."

"You keep saying 'these people,' you don't have a name for them? We've been calling them "The Others," replied Walt. Then he regretted saying so; that term originally came from Danielle, and he didn't want to reveal that yet.

" 'The Others,' that seems appropriate from your point of view. It does sound better than 'these people'."

As they finished dinner, Alex instructed Walt to get ready for bed as she took the tray of food away. When she returned, she told Walt, "Now the Others have ordered me that when you sleep, one of your hands or feet have to be chained to your bed. They will usually be watching the entrance to the cave, but apparently they can't have someone there all the time at night. Now which hand or foot will it be?"

"What?" exclaimed Walt. "That's weird. You're giving me a choice as to how to be chained? What if I refuse?"

"Weren't you just listening? The Others will just make it a lot worse for both of us, and you should realize that by now. And besides, I told you that the Others have a strange sense of humor."

Walt had a hard time believing what was happening now, but eventually he decided by the look on her face that Alex wasn't kidding and that this was consistent with the Others' previous actions. It wouldn't do to make them angry right away. Sighing, he relented and got on the bed, "All right, they got me by my right hand this morning, so how's about my left foot tonight?"

Alex quickly closed the corresponding manacle around Walt's left ankle, and said, "Thank you for doing this. You'll find that it's much better to do as they ask." She then turned off a light and left Walt alone in the darkness. There would be no pillow, nor even a sheet, but it was plenty warm enough not to need the latter, and he had been sleeping in the open enough the past several weeks to be able to do without the former.

As Walt lay there, clasping his hands behind his head in an inconsequential act of defiance, he thought, "Wow, they really have her brainwashed. She seems to have to desire to escape, as if she's completely given up. Maybe she thinks she has nothing out there to escape to. What am I going to do? Guess I'll have to play along for a while, and try to convince them I'm not thinking of escaping all the time." Alex apparently was a treasure trove of information; he would have to continue finding out all he could from her. She had seemed concerned for his welfare, as if protecting him like a big sister, but maybe she was more concerned with what she thought was her own self-interest. Perhaps it was a combination of both. In any event she was the only one around who could possibly become some sort of ally.


	7. Finding the Raft Survivors

Reviews are still welcome, but I will not beg for them. At least I am still entertained by this story.

* * *

The raft survivors are found.

* * *

After the rescue of Aaron, Sayid and Charlie were convinced that the Others were a figment of the deluded Danielle's imagination. She had probably set up that black smoke signal just to create alarm and confuse the castaways. In the middle of the morning of second day after the departure of the raft, Sayid announced to those in the caves that he was going back to the beach to restart the signal fire. He never felt that moving everyone to the caves or the hatch was a good idea, and wanted to re-establish the beach settlement. He asked if anyone would like to accompany him.

Shannon had mixed feelings about Sayid. A part of her wanted to be with him as much as possible, but she didn't want to make it look too obvious. An idea struck her: "It will be good for Vincent to have a nice walk; we'll come along with you." Okay, maybe it still was pretty obvious. Jack, Kate, Locke, and Hurley had made another trip to the hatch, leaving Claire, Charlie, and Sun to look after Aaron. The pair walked briskly along the well-worn path, when suddenly Vincent's ears perked up, and he strained hard on the leash.

"What do you suppose he hears now?" finally asked Shannon, breaking the silence.

"Could be almost anything," replied Sayid. "Just keep a firm grip on …".

Just then Vincent yanked hard, and the leash broke free from Shannon's grasp. "Vincent!" Shannon yelled. She would have a difficult time living with herself if she lost Vincent after Walt had picked her to look after the white Labrador.

"Hush!" warned Sayid, we can't be sure who or what is out there. They slowed down their pace, and deviated from the main path as they neared the beach so they could arrive unseen. All this precaution turned out to be unnecessary.

Vincent had heard a familiar voice calling for help. The voice was weaker than normal, and not quite the same, but he was sure whom it belonged to. As he raced ahead of Shannon and Sayid to the beach, he spotted the person he expected to find – Michael. Looking around, there were those two other men who had left on the raft two days before, but Vincent was overwhelmingly disappointed not to find his true master. Vincent trotted over to Michael, who was sitting on the beach, and gave him a questioning look.

"Oh, Vincent, I'm so sorry, they took Walt!" cried Michael, who was not in full possession of his senses, and gave Vincent a big hug. Looking Vincent straight in the eyes, Michael continued, "But we'll find him and get him back, you and me." Vincent seemed to understand the despondent man. If Walt had been anywhere in the area Vincent would have detected his scent. Michael appeared to be waking up from a nightmare. "Hey buddy, what are you doing here by yourself? Isn't someone supposed to be watching you?"

At that moment Sayid and Shannon emerged onto the beach, and gasped at the sight. Vincent had run up to Michael, who was sitting up and talking to his son's pet, while Sawyer and Jin lay unconscious nearby. Sayid went into action immediately, rousing Jin and getting him to drink from a water bottle Sayid was carrying in his backpack. Shannon went over to Michael and Vincent, and offered another bottle to Michael, which he gratefully accepted. Then Michael started describing in an incoherent fashion about the misadventure they had on the raft. Sayid next went over to Sawyer, but couldn't produce more than a groan. Sayid saw the gunshot wound and the makeshift bandages.

"We need to get them to the caves so Jack can attend to them," announced Sayid. "Do you think you can make it?" he asked of Michael and Jin. Michael nodded, and translated Sayid's question for Jin using a combination of simple words and hand gestures. Jin also said yes, but there was the problem of how to transport Sawyer. It could take a long time to find Jack at the hatch and bring him back to here, so the resourceful Sayid constructed a stretcher out of two logs, some vines, and a tarp he had been carrying in his backpack. Michael and Jin took turns carrying the front end of the stretcher, while Sayid carried the back end the whole time. It was slow going due to the need of the first two to rest and rehydrate frequently.

It was late afternoon as they approached the caves. Shannon went ahead to find Sun, and told her, "There's someone here you have to see." Within a minute Sun was positively shocked to find see her husband struggling the final few steps to the cave. They engaged in a long, passionate embrace, but then that was tempered when Jin explained to his wife in Korean what had transpired on the raft. Sun was overjoyed to see Jin again; she had been quite afraid that might never be the case, but they couldn't be too happy being so close to Michael who had just suffered such a horrible loss under incredible circumstances. They would join a search party at the first opportunity.

The indefatigable Sayid then set off for the caves to retrieve Jack. Meanwhile Sun started attending to Sawyer, who looked to be in bad shape. She removed the bandages, which reminded her of Jin's shirt, on Sawyer's shoulder, and cleaned the wound the best she could with some of the few remaining antiseptics. She then applied a clean bandage. Throughout the process Sawyer was intermittently moaning, and Sun did manage to get him to drink some water.

Satisfied that she had done all she could for Sawyer, Sun turned her attention to the other two men from the raft. With all that had been going on, they may have forgotten that they had been out in the sun far too long. Sun found a bottle of lotion she had made from some of the plants. It wouldn't serve as a sunscreen, but would alleviate sunburn. The lotion had not been in too much use recently as people had quickly learned to stay out of the equatorial sun for long periods of time, but this was a truly exceptional circumstance. She gently applied the lotion to Jin's back and shoulders, and poured some into his hands so he could attend to the rest of his body. Then she did the same for Michael. There was a time when Jin would have flown off the handle to see his wife rub another man's back like that, but things were different now. Still, if Michael had lost all his shirts on the raft, Jin would graciously lend him one. Sun then rubbed what was left on Sawyer's upper body, but thanks to the bandages he had less exposed skin and didn't need as much.

Sayid had not gotten halfway to the hatch when he encountered that group returning for the day. He told them the incredible tale as they hurried back. Kate had to restrain herself in order to let Jack attend to Sawyer. As a matter of fact, Jack did not have a lot to do, and congratulated Sun on a fine effort. As Jack stepped away to look at Michael and Jin, Kate looked at the man who had aroused such a mixture of strong feelings in her. Now he tried to be a hero, and took a bullet in an effort to protect Walt. Kate felt that action deserved a little kiss, and she planted one on Sawyer's forehead. Sawyer appeared to moan slightly and make a small smile.


	8. First Day in the Mines

Walt, guided by Alex, undergoes several experiences during his first day working in the mines.

* * *

Alex walked into Walt's room with a breakfast tray, and set it down on the table before unlocking the manacle enclosing Walt's ankle with a key. Walt got up, washed up in the adjoining room serving as his bathroom, and returned with an inquisitive face.

"Here's breakfast," Alex explained, "you will need it. Breakfast was primarily fruit and juice, with something that resembled oatmeal. When they were finished, Alex said, "Come, I will take care of the dishes later."

Walt had made up his mind not to cause any trouble this day. The Others were sure to be keeping a close eye on him somehow, possibly through Alex. Besides, this was going to be an opportunity to learn things, things that could be useful for a future escape attempt. He made it a point to learn all he could. Consequently, he obediently followed Alex down the corridor past his room, in the direction opposite from the entrance to the network of mine tunnels. They passed some more chambers, and at the end of the corridor eventually reached an opening into a large cavern. There were three more corridors exiting the cavern. Walt tried to maintain a sense of direction. If they had been walking mainly south, these new tunnels led east, south, and west. Near the center of the large room was a wheelbarrow filled with various tools.

"These will be your tools," Alex explained. Among them were a pickax, shovel, drill, hammer, and chisel, and a supply of water bottles. "Now come this way," she continued, and took Walt to a large stone with a small chunk of rock on it. "This is a sample of the mineral. Do you feel anything?"

"No," answered Walt.

"That is to be expected," replied Alex. "Now stand here, and let me know when you feel anything." With that, Alex strode away back in the direction whence they came. When she was fifteen meters away Walt called out,

"Hey, there's a strange humming in my head."

Alex continued for some distance, and returned. They found that the vibration in Walt's head increased in intensity until Alex was about forty meters away, and then leveled off.

"What was that all about?" asked Walt.

"As the Others told you, you have the ability to sense the mineral they need, but only when no one else is interfering, and when you have not been close to any infected person for a day. I have had plenty of exposure, but am not sick like they are. We needed to find out how far away I have to be in order for you to do your task. Now you know what it feels like to be in the presence of the mineral. You will walk the tunnels until you find some, and chip it out of the walls. You can carry the tools and ore samples back and forth in the wheelbarrow."

"Does this mineral have a name?"

Alex thought, "I don't remember the Others ever mentioning it. They might have some fancy scientific name for it. If you wish, I could ask them while you're working. Or perhaps you have a suggestion?"

"A mineral for the Others? Otherite? That's a stupid sounding name," opined Walt. But the whole situation was stupid, so maybe that was appropriate.

"All right, we'll start with the center tunnel," said Alex. With a not-too-pleased expression on his face, Walt went to the wheelbarrow, and wheeled it to the tunnel that he thought headed southward. This tunnel was about three meters wide and four meters high, and its floor and walls were surprisingly smooth. It was illuminated by a string of light bulbs along the ceiling.

"Hey, where do you get the power for these light bulbs?" asked Walt.

"The Others built a solar-powered generator. The panels are on the mountain where they can't be seen unless you're right on top of them. Solar power is quite efficient when one is near the equator."

"Any chance they could use some of that power to air condition this place?"

The attempt at humor was lost on Alex. In a serious emotionless tone she answered, "That would not be at all practical, the caves are far too big, and it is not necessary. If you are thirsty have some of the water."

Walt had been hoping Alex would show some emotion, some spirit, some reason for living beyond serving the Others. If she had been with them her whole life, they must have really influenced her mind in a negative way. Maybe some day he could do something about that.

Continuing his effort to acquire more information, Walt asked, "How did they make these walls so smooth?"

"The Others built a machine that did this. They have been here for many years, so they had plenty of time to do that. A benefit was that these tunnels are very stable. It would take a powerful bomb to cause them to collapse, and there aren't any such things down here."

"What does this machine look like? And does it do other things?"

"The Others prefer that I not discuss this with you. They are aware that your group has an idea that some sort of machine exists, but do not wish to provide any details before they are cured and leave this place."

"So you really think they'll let us go if I manage to find enough 'otherite' and they get cured?"

"The Others have always been truthful to me; I have no reason to doubt them."

Walt was pretty sure that wasn't the case, but wanted to get to know Alex better before he informed her of his opinion.

"All right, we have come far enough. I will leave you now. Find all the … otherite you can. You will figure out what method works best for you. Remember the sooner you have mined enough, the sooner you will be out of here. I will return when it is time for lunch." With that, Alex departed, leaving Walt alone in the tunnel.

As Alex left, the buzzing started again in Walt's head. It took him a few seconds to realize that more otherite was nearby. He walked up and down the corridor until he reached the place where the vibration was most intense, and then ran his hand up and down the wall to further localize the source. Then he took up the pickax, which was heavier than he had hoped, and started chopping away. He found that by placing the wheelbarrow under the ore's location it would catch most of the debris, instead of the debris showering his feet. He did some experimenting, placing his hand around the cavity in the wall to determine if any otherite remained, and by handling the pieces of rock, could tell which contained the valuable mineral. Satisfied that he had extracted all he could from this site, he proceeded farther down the corridor, but the buzzing was continuous.

"Duh, the rock containing the otherite is still in the wheelbarrow," Walt realized. Therefore he carried the ore-containing rocks back to the central cavern and set them on the floor, so that they would be out of range of his detecting ability once he was back in the tunnel. Back in the tunnel, he located two more deposits, and repeated the process. The heat and physical activity naturally made him perspire profusely, and he was grateful that he had been provided the ample supply of water. Suddenly Alex reappeared.

"It is time for lunch, let's go." She saw the collection of rocks Walt had accumulated, and added, "Looks like you have done a good job. We will take these back, and the Others will analyze them. Also, you look like you need to wash up. This way."

She led Walt to the west-leading tunnel, which turned out to be very short, and ended at an underground stream. It flowed southward, disappearing behind an iron grate.The waterwas only a couple decimeters deep, and Alex encouraged Walt to kneel in it and rinse himself off the best he could. Splashing his face felt very good under these circumstances. A towel was conveniently draped across a nearby rock.

That water was refreshingly cooler than the air, and rejuvenated Walt. "Where does that lead?" he asked.

"We believe it leads to an underground lake. It comes from the ocean, near where you first came in here. That grate will stop anyone from leaving or getting in here. Now let's go."

They returned to Walt's room. Alex disappeared somewhere with the rocks and empty water bottles, and returned with another meal on a tray. During the meal Walt described his experiences, and Alex seemed satisfied with the narration. When they were done Alex vanished again with the tray, and returned with a large supply of water bottles.

"You are expected to work eight hours a day, with an hour for lunch in the middle," she explained. "The Others will be able to tell if you are working hard enough by how much otherite you obtain. Now lets go."

So far Walt felt that he could handle this. When Alex left him this time, he did some exploring. Continuing down the south tunnel, he found several more tunnels intersecting it at right angles. There would be plenty of opportunity to find more otherite. When he had gained more trust from the Others and Alex, he would do a thorough exploration, and try to discover something that would aid in his escape or rescue. For today, he was content to prove he was reliable. He located eight more lodes of their precious mineral. One was nearly at the floor level, which proved to be quite awkward to mine. All in all, it was not a pleasant experience, but it was a whole lot better than being roughed up by those Others.

Alex showed up at dinnertime, and they pretty much repeated the process they had done at lunch. This time Walt had so many rocks that he used the wheelbarrow to transport them and the empty water bottles back to his room, leaving the tools at an intersection of mine tunnels. For dinner they had some good boar meat, and assorted vegetables. When they were done Walt started to get up, but failed at his first attempt. Alex noticed and stated, "Your muscles must be sore after using them so much in ways you are not used to. That has been anticipated. Please get ready for bed."

When Alex left this time, Walt found a new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste on the table in his bathroom. He helped himself, realizing that of all places, this was the first time he had brushed his teeth for real in almost seven weeks. When Alex returned, Walt was sitting on his bed. "There was a toothbrush and toothpaste in there," he said pointing to the adjoining room.

"Yes, you would not be very useful to the Others if you got a bad toothache. They do not have a real dentist, so they would probably pull your tooth if necessary. They figure you would rather work in the mines than sit here suffering from a painful toothache, so please take care of your teeth. You will get other little presents like this as long as you cooperate."

Walt agreed that getting a toothache on purpose to avoid working in the mines would be a bad idea. Alex was sounding like a big sister again. "What other 'presents' might he get in the future?" he wondered.

"Okay now, lie face down," Alex instructed.

Walt almost automatically replied, "Why?" but remembered that he was going to stick to his plan of being obedient all day. Based on Alex's behavior all day, she wouldn't do anything to harm him. So Walt flopped down on his stomach on his bed. He was kind of irritated, but not too surprised, when Alex took his left wrist and snapped a manacle on it. But her next action did take him by surprise. Alex was gently rubbing his back. Almost in shock, Walt stammered, "Uh, you don't have to do that."

"Yes I do," came the reply. "The Others have ordered me to do so. They want you in the best possible physical condition for tomorrow. You won't be able to do much work if you're very sore. Just tell me what feels good."

Walt had to agree that this made sense. The logic was so simple; he gets a massage, and then can he do more work. Was this a good deal? The alternative was to do less work, but spend the next day with an aching back and shoulders. This was an easy choice. And after what he had been through the past three days, he certainly deserved this. This would make his captivity quite bearable. Wait a minute; the Others were probably messing with his mind again. They wanted him to think that this life wouldn't be so bad, and that he would give up the will to escape. But what should he do? Resisting at this point would give the show away, and he would just get into trouble. Maybe Alex too, for not convincing him to follow their orders, and he didn't want the Others to be upset at her. Certainly not after this life-restoring rubdown, which by now felt far too good to do anything that might jeopardize its continuation.

"Oh, just about my whole back, shoulders, and neck," was Walt's belated reply to Alex's query. "Everything you do feels good." Alex paid more attention to the captive's shoulders and neck, and heard some satisfied "aah's" in response. She noted that Walt had been very obedient today, but was not convinced he would remain so in the foreseeable future. She hoped that he wouldn't get the both of them in trouble. Her massage soon made Walt forget about everything else, and he drifted off to sleep in a manner much more pleasant than he imagined possible.


	9. Locke's Anguish

Locke agonizes over Walt's fate and leads another trip to the hatch; Jack attends to the raft crew.

* * *

Locke was stunned at the news concerning Walt, and spent a sleepless night thinking about it, and whether he could have done anything to prevent it. Was he wrong to encourage Walt to develop his "special" abilities? Had the Others seen this, and decided that Walt was worth kidnapping because of this? Locke was being overcome with a sense of guilt. The person he had spent the most time with, Boone, was dead, and he would most likely be still alive if Locke hadn't been around. Still, Locke had yelled at Boone to get out that drug-smuggler's plane before it fell, and Boone ignored him. At least Boone was a grown-up, and responsible for making that foolhardy decision to try to use that plane's radio when in such a precarious position. But Walt was just a child; only too eager to be influenced by a man he found much more interesting than his own father. Locke had always liked children, and having even indirectly contributed to Walt's misfortune would be too much to bear.

Then again, there was no proof those Others wanted Walt for some special abilities. Maybe they just wanted all children they could get their hands on, like they apparently took Danielle's baby, Alex, and were apparently after Claire's baby, Aaron. Maybe they still wanted the latter, but Walt just happened to be an easier target at the time. Possibly they didn't want Walt to leave the island, and this was their last chance to nab him.

Locke recalled Walt's last words to him: "Don't open it." Walt didn't refer to the hatch by name, but there was no other possibility. The hatch could well be dangerous, but Locke had to investigate it. In case it was, it would probably be best if only a few people went down with him. That probably would not be a problem; only Kate and Jack had expressed any interest in doing so. But it would take a long time to clear out the debris with such a small number of people. In any event, Locke was certain that the answers he needed would be found in the network of tunnels below the hatch.

As the sun rose in the morning, Sawyer was trembling. Jack observed that Sawyer was feverish, and rummaged around for some medicine that might help. He located some antibiotics and a mild sedative and injected Sawyer with him. Sawyer soon faded off into a blissful state of unconsciousness. Jack changed the dressing on Sawyer's shoulder wound. If nothing else happened, Sawyer would probably recover but would need a long to do so. Jack then turned his attention to Jin. Physically, at least, the Korean had taken the events rather well, and should be fine in another day. Michael, however, was showing many signs of shock. In a state of semi-consciousness he was mumbling about those horrible Others had taken Walt, and that how he had to find him. Jack wanted to Michael to rest comfortably, but under these circumstances it was no surprise that that wasn't happening.

All at once Michael sat bolt upright and shouted, "I have to get Walt, now!"

"Easy does it, Michael," Jack tried to calm the anguished father down.

"No, I have to get him now!"

"You're in no condition to do so, yet. If you want to save Walt, you have to be in good physical shape. You can't help him by collapsing all the time, which is what will happen if you try to do anything remotely strenuous today." After a few more minutes of arguing, Michael did in fact collapse, and finally admitted he needed to rest for a full day.

Jack was too busy attending to Sawyer, Jin, and Michael, so this day he did not join Locke, Kate, and Hurley on their trip to the hatch. The present medical emergencies would have to come first, but in a day or two the patients should be sufficiently recovered not to need the doctor's full time attention.

As the trio approached the hatch, Kate asked, "So which tunnel do we investigate first?"

Locke answered, "I think it's best to try to clear the rocks first. At least see if it's possible without extraordinary effort. It might take dynamite to break through or around that heavy metal door we saw, so I'd like to start with the other alternatives. Navigating that underground river upstream would be extremely difficult without a power motor. We could probably travel downstream, but the return trip might not be feasible."

Turning to Hurley, Locke said, "I know you have no intention of going down the hatch, and I'm not going to ask you to. But it is important that someone remain above ground to give warnings, in case those Others approach, or there is an imminent storm. We need someone to look after the rope ladder, and perhaps hold it steady while we climb it. I think you are admirably suited for this job. Do you think you are up to it?"

When Hurley hesitated, Locke added, "I have a feeling what we find down there will give us answers to Walt's abduction. Wouldn't you like to be a part of that?"

Hurley was tormented by mixed emotions. He was both convinced that evil lay below the hatch opening, but was desperately curious to find out everything he could about it. Letting the small role in possibly finding out about Walt be an excuse, Hurley finally relented, and "Sure, I'll do it. We need to arrange some kind of signal. I can whistle pretty loud."

"All right then," said Locke, pleased that he had been able to convince Hurley to be a reliable ally. Since three whistles is such a common signal, why don't we make it four?"

"Fine," replied Hurley. A second later, Hurley was thinking, "No, four is one of those numbers!" "Would you mind making it five?" asked Hurley.

Locke didn't want to lose Hurley at this point, and agreed to the change. He retrieved the rope ladder from the bushes where it had been hidden, and descended into the darkness. Kate followed immediately after, with Hurley holding the ladder steady the whole time. Locke and Kate quickly proceeded to the rockslide with the aid of a flashlight. Once there, Locke removed his backpack and pulled out some rod-shaped pieces of metal that would serve as levers to move the heavier rocks. He and Kate first removed the lighter ones, and placed them along the edges of the corridor. Kate had a flashback of performing a similar activity when Jack and Charlie had been trapped in a cave-in.

"Do you suppose there's a chance of a cave-in here?" she asked.

Locke poked the walls with a piece of metal. "These have been very well built. I'm sure our construction worker Michael would agree with me if he ever came down here. But there are no guarantees in life. If you'd like to turn back, I won't stop you."

"No, I'm going to do this," insisted Kate. She still had a strong sense of desiring to prove herself to the rest of the survivors, and that she wasn't just some common criminal on the lam. She had to convince everyone that she had something useful to offer. She and Locke started using the levers to move the heavier rocks, but it was not going too well. After a couple hours of strenuous activity, Locke announced,

"We need longer levers for this work. I'll have to see what I can find from the salvage. Still, we have made decent progress today."

It would take more than statement to convince Kate. Already she was impatient, and was considering trying to convince Locke that they should take some dynamite to the heavy metal door. But she would stand a better chance if she convinced Jack first, and then when all three were three it would be two against one. Furthermore, she really was exhausted, although she would not have admitted to anyone else. The pair climbed back up the ladder, put it away, and returned with Hurley to the caves less than half an hour before sunset.


	10. First Side Effect

Walt's second day working in the mines has him finding a side effect of the injections the Others gave him.

* * *

Waking up was nowhere near as pleasant an experience for Walt as falling asleep was. He awoke with a dull ache in his upper back. With his left hand chained, he tried to rub the sore spot with the back of his right fist, but couldn't quite reach it effectively and only mildly alleviated the pain. Then Alex walked in, unchained his hand, and rubbed the area he had been trying to reach.

"Oh, thank you," Walt said automatically, and then realized this was only going to enable him to do a full day's work. But there could be no harm in being polite. "You'll have to let me do something for you."

"You can do that by not doing anything that will get us in trouble," replied Alex. "Also, it is nice just having someone new to talk with."

Walt didn't have any particular response in mind, but that wasn't quite the response he had hoped for. Today he would try to instill some spirit into Alex, something that might convince her that a better life was out there and worth taking some risks for.

Over breakfast Alex announced, "The Others were satisfied with the rock samples you collected yesterday. A few of the smaller rocks didn't contain any 'otherite' as you called it, but that is all right. It is better to have some of those than to miss any significant real deposits. At this rate you will be finished in a few months."

"I was kind of hoping to be out of here in less time than that. Don't you wish you could do something else before then?"

"You just said you wanted to do something for me. Please don't talk like that. Perhaps you need a reminder of what the Others could do?"

"No," answered Walt, not hiding the dejection in his voice. Turning Alex to his way of thinking was not going to be a quick and easy process.

Alex had left the wheelbarrow outside the entrance to Walt's room the night before after she had transported the ore to the Others so that they could analyze and refine it. This morning Walt wheeled it back to the mines. As he and Alex reached the central cavern, she announced, "Based on the amount of otherite you collected the Others have determined there is no need for you to go to the last two cross-corridors. I will show you." They went along the central south-leading corridor, with Walt picking up the tools he left the day before along the way. Then they proceeded to the third intersection from the end. "This is as far as you are permitted."

"What's in those last two tunnels?" asked Walt. "Is it that machine?"

From Alex's reaction Walt could tell that he had made a good guess, but in the next instant her expression changed: "You are asking too many questions. Now get to work."

Spooked by her tone of voice, Walt followed Alex at a distance back towards the central cavern, turning off at the first intersection before it. He had counted the number of tunnels crossing the main corridor. Including the last two he was forbidden to enter, there was a total of twenty-three. Some day that knowledge might be useful. For now, he felt it in his best interest to collect everything he could in the tunnels far from the forbidden zone. This morning he had mined seven deposits of otherite when Alex suddenly reappeared, announcing the noon break. The timing was good, as Walt felt that something was a little different this day while handling the tools. He wheeled his collection back to his room, and Alex continued with it to the laboratory, dumped its contents, and returned with the empty barrow and lunch.

Neither person seemed eager to talk at this meal, and they were mostly finished when Walt realized what had been different. He noticed that his fingernails were longer than they should have been. Surely he had clipped them a day or two before the raft trip, but now it looked like they hadn't been cut in two weeks, and had been digging slightly into this hands.

Alex sensed that something might be wrong. "What is it?" she asked, breaking the ice at the quiet meal.

"Oh nothing, just that my nails are a little long. Guess I haven't clipped them in a longer time than I thought."

"Oooh," was Alex's immediate reaction.

"What's wrong?" Walt saw that Alex was now expressing concern.

Alex hesitated. "It may be nothing, or it may be a side effect of the injection they gave you."

"Uh, are there any other side effects?"

"It is better not to worry about those until we are sure of this one. No use getting upset over nothing, and besides, there's nothing we can do about it."

That response did nothing to alleviate Walt's concern. What else was going to happen? When the meal was over he took a close look at his feet, and the toenails were proportionately long in comparison with the fingernails. Well, maybe that wasn't so bad; it might be worse if one set of nails was growing much faster than the other.

In the afternoon Walt was left to himself in the mines, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was being spied on. While mining the second cross-tunnel, he plotted how he would eventually see what was in those last two tunnels. He would try to determine Alex's movements, and when she was away for a long enough period time he could investigate. If he got caught, he could claim he just lost count due to a powerful tingling sensation he felt in his head.

After he had excavated eight more deposits, Alex appeared and announced Walt had done enough for the day. He went through the relieving ritual of washing his sweat-drenched body in the underground stream at the end of the west tunnel, and carted his latest ore collection back to the corridor outside his room. While Alex was taking care of the rocks and dinner, Walt found a nail clippers in his washroom. So was that one of those promised "gifts" for good behavior?

With newly trimmed nails Walt had a more enjoyable dinner with Alex. He would try to use her apparent concern for him to his advantage, but take it slowly.

"Yes, the clippers counts as a little gift," Alex admitted. "You have done well so far; is there anything else you would like?"

"Well, how about something else to wear?" Walt gave a little laugh, hoping to gain more of Alex's confidence. Besides, those shorts he had worn for four straight days were really grungy by now.

Alex's face brightened. "That may be possible. I will look into it."

Walt was encouraged to see a spark of emotion out of Alex. He thanked her, but as he got up it was obvious his muscles were again sore. He got ready for bed while Alex took care of the dinnerware. Upon her return she ordered him to lie face down on his bed again. Walt put up a mild protest, but soon let her manacle his left wrist as he felt this would not be a good time to make trouble. He wasn't very comfortable with the arrangement; fearing that the Others would use this to affect his mind and crush his desire to escape. When Alex began rubbing the knots out of his back, Walt felt it was okay to ask, "What would happen if I refused your massage?"

Without saying anything, Alex used her left hand to rub up and down Walt's back. When she was convinced that Walt had given up on receiving an answer, she silently moved the upper right manacle into place. She rubbed Walt's right shoulder with her right hand, then gently took his right arm, and placed his wrist over the open manacle, and efficiently snapped it shut.

Oops. Walt had not intended to become this helpless. He was going to be massaged back into shape whether he liked it or not. After regarding her helpless captive for a few seconds, Alex suddenly went up and down Walt's back with the sides of her hands in a chopping motion, with a surprising amount of energy due to her frustration that Walt was not being cooperative enough. It felt great, but Walt tried to maintain some control of the situation by asking, "Could you please rub just below my right shoulder blade?" That was the spot that had been bothering him the most, with all the repeated swinging of the pickax and jabbing with the shovel. His next words were, "Yes, that's it. Press harder. Aaah." He had gotten Alex to do what he wanted, but now his brain could no longer think about anything other than the disappearance of the pain. So much for attempting to have any control over the situation.

Alex was now filled with mixed emotions. She was more concerned than before that eventually Walt would do something that would incur the wrath of the Others. While he was making some effort to hide it, the boy still was filled with a great deal of spirit. She would do what she could to maintain the fragile peace, and had to admit that she got some satisfaction out of giving the chopping massage, as if she was administering some kind of lesson. But she was dreading the prospect that more than Walt's fingernails would soon be growing at an alarming rate.

Alex continued rubbing Walt's back for several minutes, until it appeared he was asleep. She then left and reported the day's events to the Others in a serious matter-of-fact tone, and returned to her own room, around a corner of a side tunnel out of sight of Walt's. She thought she should tell Walt she had to make these reports, but he probably should have guessed that she did. After she was out of earshot the Others congratulated themselves on the way things were progressing, and had a laugh over how Alex had managed to handle Walt. They would be all set if this could be maintained for just a few months.


	11. Around the Island in Seven Days

Michael and company go around the island in search of evidence of Walt

* * *

The second morning after he was found on the shore, Michael was determined to start the search for Walt. Sun and Jin had agreed all along to help, and Sayid welcomed the opportunity to complete the mapping of the island that had been interrupted by his discovery of Danielle and one of her traps. Michael hadn't forgotten about Vincent, who was officially in custody of Shannon.

Of course Shannon had known that a search would be imminent, and that Vincent's help would be requested. Her first inclination was to give the Labrador back to Michael and sincerely wish him luck. But during the previous night visions entered her dreams. First there was her promising Walt she would take care of Vincent while he was away; not give Vincent to anyone else, even if it was Walt's father. Then she alternately heard Boone calling her useless, and then challenging her to do something for the greater good. When she woke, she desperately wanted to shake her spoiled rich brat image, and show Boone that she was no longer going to be useless. Then there was the added bonus that Sayid would be coming along. That settled it: she was going for a hike, and would be holding Vincent's leash.

Claire naturally was nursing and taking care of Aaron, and Charlie was not about to leave her side for any length of time. Sawyer was still in no condition for any physical exertion, and might need Jack's care for some time. If Sawyer seemed okay, Jack might accompany Locke, Kate, and Hurley on a trip to the hatch, but Jack could not remain away from his patients for an extended period of time. The nameless castaways had heard of Arzt's death and Hurley's rantings about the hatch, and were none to eager to investigate that. Some of them returned to the beach camp, and others made small improvements to the cave dwellings, but there was always someone awake keeping watch in case the Others struck again.

The quintet packed enough supplies, food, and water to last more than a week. Michael had overconfidently packed all of his and Walt's clothes on the raft, not that there were that many of them, and borrowed a couple of old shirts from Jin. Sun hadn't shared Michael's optimism and saved plenty of Jin's things just in case. Surely Vincent recognized Walt's scent, but Michael located the backgammon set that Walt had handled within the past week to be sure. From Vincent's reaction there was no doubt he understood the mission. Sayid had gotten Jack's approval to carry one of the guns, and Locke lent the group a few of his knives.

Sayid led Michael, Jin, Sun, and Shannon with Vincent northeastward along the beach; the same route he had first embarked upon just about a month before. In half a day they encountered the cable Sayid, and later Hurley, discovered on their previous treks. One end led into the ocean. Some day they might build another sea craft and find out where that led. The other end, they now knew, led to one of Danielle's hideouts, but which was no longer in use. There had been no trace of anyone having been anywhere along the beach for weeks. After a quick lunch, the group continued northward along the island's perimeter. After an uneventful day, they made camp for the night shortly before sunset.

Following a simple dinner, the group went to bed in a makeshift tent made up of some pieces of wood and tarps. Michael lay awake, wondering what Walt was doing at that moment. The truth would have confounded him; the answer was that Walt was getting a back rub by the French woman's long lost daughter, while chained to a bed after his second day of hard labor in the mines. But Michael was a long way away from finding out the truth.

The group broke camp early the next morning, and continued northward along the eastern edge of the island. Again, nothing of interest was discovered. Sayid tried to cheer the group up by saying the maps he was constructing would prove very valuable in the future. Sun was trying to teach Jin English, and he was making some progress. It might have gone faster if there was more conversation among those more fluent in that language, but they were not in a particularly talkative mood.

The third day of the hike they encountered a difficulty. The nice sandy shore ended, and the coastline became a long series of jagged rocks. The region was getting mountainous; in fact the mountain Michael and Jin had seen from the raft now loomed ominously in front of them one kilometer distant. They made some attempts to continue, but the steep slopes and treacherous currents at the shore prevented them from making headway. They reluctantly agreed that they would need more serious mountain climbing equipment if they really wanted to go that route, or build yet another water craft to explore the north shore of the island. Thus they skirted the southern edge of the large mountain, and made camp inland for that night.

The fourth day brought them to the northwestern shore. Here the sandy beach returned, and following the shore was much easier. Still there was no sign of anyone having landed on the island there. Frustration was starting to set in amid the mapmaking and English lessons.

The team had started southward down the west edge of the island on the fifth day, when a torrential downpour hit in mid-morning. They had no option but to make shelter in their tent, and they had to hold on tight to keep it from blowing away. The words of Arzt echoed in their minds: they were at the beginning of monsoon season, and these storms would become more frequent and intense over the next few months.

The storm did not let up until the morning of the sixth day of the journey. As the group continued southward, suddenly Vincent started barking excitedly. Shannon had a hard time hanging onto his leash, but had wrapped it around her wrist so she managed to hang on. Soon Jin's sharp eyes spotted a familiar object: the yellow lifejacket Walt had been wearing when he was abducted.

Michael exclaimed, "Walt was here!" as the group rushed to examine the jacket. He couldn't contain his excitement at the discovery of the evidence that his son could be around here. Soon Vincent strained in another direction, dragging Shannon over to one of Walt's shoes. Michael confirmed the identity, and asked, "What went on here?" The group spread out to search this beach. Sun found a sock, and Sayid found the other shoe.

In his excitement, Michael optimistically announced, "My boy's a genius – he left us a trail!"

"It certainly would be an odd trail," thought Sayid cautiously, as he watched Vincent drag Shannon away from the beach and toward the jungle. This time Vincent had located some piece of material, roughly shaped like a rectangle.

"What?" Michael's enthusiasm waned as he reached Shannon and Vincent. "This looks like a piece of Walt's shorts. Whathappened here?"

Meanwhile Vincent led Shannon up a trail, with Sayid walking quickly in pursuit. Soon Shannon recognized a torn shirt that had an unmistakable horizontal stripe pattern – the shirt he had been wearing when he gave Vincent to her. "Look here!" she shouted, as she picked up the dirty piece of clothing. For some reason it didn't come up easily, and she had to give it a second tug.

"Nooo! Watch out!" shouted Sayid, not quite in time. He should have recognized the trap similar to the one Danielle had set up when he and Charlie momentarily thought they had found Aaron wrapped up in a blanket. A wire had been looped through a sleeve of the shirt, and connected high above to a tree branch loaded with rocks. Sayid sprinted at Shannon, who was startled enough to let go of Vincent's leash, but didn't comprehend Sayid's concern. While Vincent ran off just in time, Sayid tackled Shannon just as the shower of rocks descended upon her. Both of them got hit several times, but it could have been worse since Sayid's momentum did take them out of the cascade before the whole load came down upon them.

Shannon had been hit on the head. Rather delirious, she was cackling, "Just like Boone! I messed that up just like Boone! Here's to you, dear brother, I hope you're proud of me!" Like Boone, she caused harm to herself in a rescue attempt. Then, "I'm really sorry I lost your dog, Walt. Please forgive me."

From their allotment of medical supplies Sun quickly cleaned and dressed the wounds of Shannon and Sawyer. Each had several gashes and deep bruises, but those shouldn't be life threatening, especially if they got back to Jack promptly.

Michael was devastated. It was now apparent this was just a trap to throw them on the wrong track. Walt certainly hadn't deliberately left this as a clever trail. "What have those sick bastards done to my son?" he shouted to no one in particular. Walt could be anywhere, but probably far from here. Then suddenly Vincent reappeared, with an uncomprehending look on his face. Did he realize that he had helped cause the injuries, even though it was no fault of his own?

Getting back to the caves and the doctor proved to be a little problem. They didn't know the direct route to the caves from the west side of the island, so they played it safe and completed the circuit to the south side where the bulk of the plane originally crashed, and then followed the well known trail back to the caves. With Shannon and Sayid moving at less than top speed and frequently leaning on Sayid and Jin, respectively, for support, and Michael now holding Vincent's leash, this last part of the journey took another day and a half. The emotional gut-wrenching journey had lasted one full week.


	12. The Forbidden Tunnels

Walt plots to explore the forbidden tunnels; will he get away with it?

* * *

When Walt woke up in the morning that would be his third day at work in the mines, his thought was, "Be nice to Alex." Despite being chained at both hands he felt good physically, far better than he had expected a few days before, and Alex was responsible for that. He was content to lie face down until she came to release him. Then he started thinking again that this must not continue indefinitely. He had to keep his mind clear and plot how to escape, or help someone rescue him. His thoughts turned to the forbidden tunnels at the south end of the mine. Maybe the answers were there. Nevertheless, he should still be nice to Alex.

Once up, Walt was annoyed that his fingernails appeared to have visibly grown overnight, so he clipped them and his toenails with his new nail clipper. Was this going to be case every day now? But he had more important things to think about today.

While in the mines in the morning, Walt couldn't stop thinking about the tunnels that were off limits. However, he was too afraid to sneak a peek into them. Occasionally when he stepped into the main corridor, he could see or hear Alex in the central cavern. He couldn't risk being seen where he wasn't supposed to be by her, and still didn't want to do anything that might upset her. Instead, he just wound up extracting a decent amount of otherite ore.

In the afternoon, there was no sign of Alex in the mine tunnels, but Walt never drummed up the courage to visit the last tunnels. If only he could be sure she was not around, and possibly spying on him. He merely went about his work in a straightforward manner. When he was through for the day, he returned to his room as usual. But this time, as he entered his bathroom, he made a new discovery. A thin rope, which could have served for a clothesline, was strung across two walls, with what appeared to be a scrap of dark gray animal fur hanging from it. Upon re-entering his bedroom, he showed it to Alex, who had just arrived with their dinner, commenting, "Look what was in the room back there. Do you know that is?"

"Of course," was the reply. "Don't you remember yesterday that you asked for something else to wear?"

"What?" Walt unfolded the object all he could. The closest identification he could make was that it might be an Aboriginal loincloth, or a prop from an ancient Tarzan movie. "Are you serious?"

Walt grimaced as Alex's facial expression changed, indicating that her feelings had been hurt. He was trying to figure out why, as that was definitely not what he wanted, when he realized that the object in his hands somewhat resembled the bottom half of her outfit. He guessed, "I'm sorry, did you make this?"

Alex nodded silently, and Walt added, "Just a minute." He retreated back to the bathroom, and thought quickly. "Is this some weird attempt by the Others to mess with my mind? She'll be insulted if I don't try this on, but I'll look ridiculous. It'd be embarrassing to be seen like that by the other survivors. Wait a minute, if they saw me like that, it would mean I had escaped or been rescued. That's more than a fair trade. Just get this over with and compliment her." So Walt changed into his new loincloth. It covered enough to be decent both front and back, and that was it. However, it fit well, and was surprisingly comfortable. Well, that was probably because his shorts and underwear were disgustingly sweaty by now. He steeled himself, and re-entered the bedroom.

"Hey, this is really comfortable, and fits well. You did a great job."

"I'm talented." Alex's response was delivered with a fair amount of haughtiness. The flash of emotion first startled Walt, but then encouraged him. Anything to get her out of her usual no-nonsense demeanor had to be considered good. She continued, "That is made of boarskin. We conserve our resources as much as possible. It has been treated so that it absorbs perspiration well, and will last a long time."

Walt explained, "I'm just afraid I look rather silly."

Alex resumed her serious tone: "How you look is unimportant. What is important is that you don't overheat while working."

"There goes that logic again," thought Walt, as he sat down to dinner. "Can't argue with that."

Then Alex added, "Furthermore, I don't think you look silly. Athletic is a more appropriate description."

There was an unexpected compliment. It would be rude not to acknowledge it, but all Walt could come up with, "I suppose I must look better in this than Hurley or Arzt would, at least." Did Alex almost crack a smile with that remark? Wanting to continue the conversation some how, Walt added, "I suppose this will get all sweaty after a day like my other shorts, but I guess I can change every day."

Alex replied, "If you behave well, you can have another loincloth like that one. It would be better if you change those each day."

Now that was a prize worth working for, thought Walt sarcastically. Then he thought of an idea. "So, when did you make this one?"

"This afternoon."

If he could be sure Alex would be occupied, Walt would have time to explore the forbidden tunnels in safety. "So if I do another good job tomorrow, you'll make me another one?"

Alex was oblivious to Walt's ulterior motive, and welcomed the appreciation of her handiwork. "That is the idea." she replied.

Walt wanted to continue the impression of his warming up to the new attire, and asked, "So do you have two of those outfits?"

"Actually, I have four."

Two would be enough for him, but he would have to keep up the impression for some time to hide the fact that he wanted some time he could be sure of being alone in the mines.

When it was time for bed, Walt asked if he could just be chained by one foot this night. If he needed a back rub he could still turn around, but had gotten used to the work by now and didn't really need one. Alex complied expressionlessly and left him in the darkness. Walt felt better about his sleeping arrangement, having regained a small amount of control, and plotted how he would explore those tunnels the next day.

The next morning went much like the previous one, with Walt making a great effort to accumulate otherite. An hour after lunch, he decided to go for it. He wheeled the wheelbarrow to the twenty-first side tunnel, and chipped out some ore. Then, with still no sign of Alex, he walked quickly and silently down the end of the main corridor. His heart pounding with excitement, he entered the twenty-second tunnel to the left, and fifty meters later reached a plain solid wall at the end, like the other side tunnels he had seen. Trying the last tunnel on the left, he found the same.

But when he sped to the last tunnel on the right, thirty meters down the passageway was blocked by many large rocks. It would take a very long time to break them into small enough pieces to move and clear the path. The humming sensation in Walt's head was quite intense here. Returning, Walt noticed that this tunnel had a rougher floor than the rest, and that his feet hurt. That wouldn't stop him from looking into the next-to-last tunnel on the right as one looked south down the main corridor, though. At the end of this tunnel, the humming in Walt's head had become a very loud buzz, and there was a heavy metal door with a wheel on the front, like some bank vaults. Walt couldn't budge the wheel or the door; evidently some key was needed to open it. He thought of listening through the door, and could make out sounds of some kind of machinery.

Thrilled at his discovery, but unable to do anything about it now, Walt quickly returned to the wheelbarrow. There was no sign of Alex or anyone else. Then he noticed that he was completely drenched with sweat; even more so than when he was mining. He proceeded way back to the fifth side tunnels, gulped down some water, and resumed his work there. He had gotten away with it. Now he just had to put up a good act.

The evening went as Walt anticipated. Alex had made him another loincloth, and explained, "It works best if you change before going to bed; you don't want to sleep in what you've perspired in all day."

"Uh, thank you; I'll do that." Walt was going to agree with everything to get the day over with as fast as possible. However, Alex noticed him limping. "Guess I walked around more today than usual," was Walt's explanation. "Also, I think I stepped on some small stones."

Alex told Walt that he should be more careful; there wasn't that great a need for speed in the mining. Then she said he needed his feet massaged. Of course the reason was that he be fit for work the next day. Walt sat on the edge of his bed, and when Alex began to rub his right foot, it tickled and Walt involuntarily kicked her.

"Ouch!"

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to, I couldn't help it."

Alex replied, "I'm sure you didn't. Now sit back." Within seconds a manacle was clamped around Walt's right foot, with both the chain attached to it and his right leg stretched tight. He sighed, but knew a chain was inevitable. Now when the foot rub tickled, Walt's foot couldn't move much.

After a few minutes, Walt's left foot got the same treatment. He was hoping Alex would unchain his right foot first, but that didn't happen. He started to worry; had she or the Others suspected or found out about his unauthorized excursion? In case they hadn't he had to act like nothing was up, so he lay back and clasped his hands tightly together across his stomach, and acted like he was enjoying the foot massage. The thought of his hands and feet being chained simultaneously was unpleasant. However, Alex appeared not to notice. She methodically completed her task, and left when Walt appeared to be asleep.

As a matter of fact, Walt was too wound up to sleep, but relieved that his act held up. There was a possibility that suspicion had been aroused, so he would have to play it cool for a while. Over the next four days, he acted like he had totally accepted his situation; mining at a good pace and never approaching the forbidden tunnels or giving any other indication that he had been up to something. At the end of that time, eight days in the mines and ten days after the launch of the raft, he figured his father and friends would be looking for him by now. He had no way of knowing they had just completed a tour of the island, but not without some injuries.


	13. Progress in the Hatch Tunnels

Kate, Jack, and Locke make progress in the tunnels connected to the hatch.

* * *

On the day Michael set out for his round-the-island excursion with Jin, Sun, Sayid, and Shannon, Kate approached Jack with her suggestion that they use the dynamite to blow up the metal door in the tunnel connected to the hatch. Jack thought before answering. He, too, was anxious to find out what was down there. But someone would have to transport more sticks of dynamite to the hatch, and then descend the ladder with them, or lower them down on a rope, and then carry them to the door. Kate would insist on doing it herself, or at the least draw straws for the honor. Even if she swore she would be extremely careful this time, Jack felt it was too likely she would blow herself up and ruin everything.

Eventually Jack answered, "I'm afraid that I have to agree with Locke on this one. We shouldn't press our luck with that stuff yet. If nothing comes of clearing the rocks we can always resort to dynamiting the door as a last resort, but if something goes wrong with that, we'll never find out was is down there. And remember, no one is forcing you to do this."

Kate had enough experience to recognize when someone wasn't being completely truthful, but an open accusation at this point wouldn't do her any good. The two-against-one scenario she had hoped for with Locke being the one had not panned out; instead she was the one against the other two. There was still too much distrust of her among most of the castaways for her to make big decisions opposed to what the more trusted doctor thought. Nevertheless, she would eventually prove herself no matter what.

Before leaving, Jack checked on his patients. Sawyer was resting as comfortably as could be expected in the circumstances, and gave a definite impression that he did not want further attention. Claire had been doing better with Aaron now that the threat to her baby was over. She sympathized with Michael over his loss, but she had to be there for her own child. Charlie was physically okay, but frequently looked agitated. He had thought the threat to Aaron was over, but the news about Walt left him doubting. Besides, that crazy French lady was still on the loose, and there was no telling what she might do.

Satisfied that he had done all that was practical medically, Jack left with Kate, Locke, and Hurley for the beach to gather materials from the plane wreckage that would help them clear away the rocky debris in the tunnel. In particular they were looking for long, thin pieces of metal that could be used as levers. While they found several of these, it took a lot of effort to detach them from other parts of the plane. With much prying and hammering, they finally managed to get eight pieces of metal ranging from two to four meters in length, and a few centimeters thick. However, this took most of the day, and they could only make it back to the caves.

The next day, the quartet went back to the hatch. Kate wanted to simply drop the levers down the opening, but Locke insisted that they be lowered down by rope so that they wouldn't be damaged. Again, Kate relented, and Hurley did the honors of lowering the levers while the other three climbed down the rope ladder. The three came up with the idea that one would stay at the bottom of the ladder while the other two worked at clearing the rocks. Three people would have been getting in the way of each other, so that arrangement worked rather well. Furthermore, each would be getting a break one-third of the time.

Still the task seemed interminable. Over three days literally tons of rocks were pushed aside, lining the corridor, with no apparent end in sight. On the morning of the fourth day, Jack was at the bottom of the ladder when he heard the signal of five whistles from Hurley.

"What is it, Hurley?"

"Real bad storm coming fast, dude. Better get up here right away."

Jack remembered the warning from Arzt about the approaching of monsoon season. He couldn't afford to be stranded away from the patients at the caves that might need him. Locke and Kate were much less eager to leave, but Jack was insistent and they went along. They were pretty drenched when they made it back to the caves, but were none the worse for wear. The storm lasted just about one day, and they returned the next morning. Nothing interesting happened that day, but on the next, they finally broke through to something. They managed to clear out a hole that was only large enough for Kate to crawl through. Impatient, Kate got Jack to retrieve Locke, who was waiting his turn at the bottom of the rope ladder, and then the two men forced their levers through the hole to prevent any possibility of it collapsing on Kate as she crawled through.

Carrying a flashlight, Kate found herself in a continuation of the tunnel. There were more featureless cross tunnels terminating in dead ends, but at the end of the main tunnel was an arch with some indecipherable figures drawn on it. Kate proceeded through the arch, but her way was blocked by more heavy rocks. "Not more rocks!" she thought, but this disappointment was overwhelmed by the discovery of the extended tunnel network. Excited that she had discovered something interesting, she returned through the hole where Jack and Locke were waiting.

The three returned triumphantly with Hurley, but as they got to the caves shortly before nightfall their enthusiasm was tempered as they were greeted with some unfortunate news. Sun and Jin, along with a very distraught Michael, had just helped the wounded Sayid and Shannon back to the caves. The injuries were moderate, but would not be life threatening with prompt medical care. Sun had done a good job of patching them up with the gear they had on the trip. Jack redressed the wounds, administered some antibiotics, and ordered them to rest for at least a day.


	14. The Tale of Ethan

Author's notes: Wow! Thanks a lot for that great review, Zombie Kitty. It really is a big source of encouragement. Those were some guesses about possible future scenes. I have a Michael-Locke one planned about six chapters from now, but at this point I doubt anyone could guess the circumstances. Michael and Sawyer is also a good idea, though I can't tell when that may come up. So far I'm just throwing in occurrences of Hurley's number all over the place like they do in the show. Maybe something more will occur to me. Also, thank you, pip4 and anon for your comments. I need a little humor now and then to keep myself entertained.

* * *

The second side effect of Walt's injections manifests itself, and Alex tells all about Ethan.

* * *

The next few days in the mines passed uneventfully. Walt had gotten into the routine of clipping his fingernails every day and his toenails every other day. He had managed to acquire a few minor scrapes, and now a bar of soap, a bottle of peroxide, and some tissues had been added to his collection of possessions on his washstand, to go along with the clippers, toothbrush, and toothpaste. Every now and then he saw Alex apparently spying on him in the mines, and hadn't dared to take another look at the forbidden tunnels at the end of the main corridor. After another week, returning from work, he got another little present.

To Alex, it resembled a short comb with very long teeth spaced wide apart. "Here," she said," the Others say you will know what to do with this."

Walt gave a little chuckle. "An Afro pick? Thanks, but I don't use them because my hair's never been long enough to …".

A surprised expression befell his face as he put his hand on his head. His hair was matted down and generally disheveled due to lack of attention the past two weeks. He had too many other things on his mind to worry about hair, and as he thought about it, realized that there weren't any mirrors in this place, so he wouldn't have noticed. He used the pick to comb out his hair. It took some effort due to a lot of tangles, but eventually a spherical mass was produced, to Alex's amusement. To Walt's shock, measuring against the pick he found that his hair extended seven or eight centimeters from his head. Three weeks ago it couldn't have been more than a single centimeter.

"Wait a minute, how did the Others know my hair grew so much?"

When Alex didn't respond immediately, Walt figured out, "You must have told them."

Alex now asked, "Didn't you realize that I have to report on you? If I hide anything from them, they can force it from me. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about that."

"Yeah, I sort of thought you had to spy on me. It's not that big a deal." However, the information that his suspicions were correct was valuable. Walt was right in acting cautiously when Alex might be around. Of course, it meant escape would be as difficult as he thought possible.

"I've never seen hair like yours before," commented Alex. "You look much better like that."

Without thinking, Walt replied, "Well, I've seen hair like yours."

"Oh, really? Where?"

Whoops, the answer was Danielle, but Walt wasn't ready to give such a direct answer yet. But Alex might be able to tell if he was lying so he was able to tell the truth by casually stating, "Oh, one of the women on the island had hair like yours, but it was definitely darker."

Alex studied the expression on Walt's face. She felt he might be hiding something. Was it from her, or something that he didn't want the Others to know about?

"So I guess I could use a haircut?" asked Walt, changing the subject.

"That would be a shame. I suppose you mean by me? I don't even cut the Others' hair; they prefer not to have me handling sharp objects if it isn't necessary." Now it was Alex's turn to stretch the truth. She had some odd fascination with Walt's hair; perhaps because it was something new to her, and didn't want to lose it.

"Well, if you like it, I can keep it for a while." This could be a way to repay Alex for all the nice things she had done for him, and Walt felt good after realizing that. After a few seconds thought, Walt continued, "I suppose the same stuff that is making my nails grow fast is also making my hair grow so fast?"

Now Alex's face developed a sadder expression. "I'm sure it is. That serum the Others injected is similar to what they gave to some of the zoo animals, and some of them grew at an accelerated rate."

Walt thought some more: "Does that mean I'm growing taller fast too?"

"I can't tell yet, but it is quite possible, so you should be prepared for that possibility."

"Hey," Walt thought, "at least some good is coming out of this. Maybe that'll be the end of all those stupid short jokes." What where those names Sawyer called him? Tattoo, Short Round, Gazoo? And yet Sawyer was the one who ended up taking a bullet trying to save him, and now might be lying in agony somewhere on a slow road to recovery, if recovery was possible.

Still, if he was growing fast, Walt didn't want it to be for too long. After he was in bed, he started thinking about how he could escape or facilitate a rescue again. Find some way to send a message. That, plus the realization that if his hair were going to keep growing like that, he would have no use for a pillow, not that he needed one or was likely to get one here.

More days passed, and suddenly during one dinner Walt had a thought. "If the Others are sick and need help, why didn't they just ask us nicely?" This whole kidnapping business could have been avoided entirely.

"You never would have helped them, certainly not after your experiences with Ethan," replied Alex.

"Oh, right. What was the deal with Ethan?"

"As I said before, the Others are not entirely sane. However, Ethan went quite insane, and could no longer listen to reason. He knew the Others needed children, and when he saw the pregnant lady Claire, all he could think of was abducting her and keeping her baby. He never let go of the idea that a child had to be born on this island to have special abilities, and didn't pay any attention to you. The rest of the Others tried to convince him not to go through with his plans. He pretended that he wouldn't for a few days, and then took off on his own and did it. He did have a fantastic knowledge of the island, and was able to hide with her somewhere no one else found out about. Apparently she escaped somehow after a week, and Ethan returned briefly and swore revenge against all your group. We couldn't stop him; at times the sickness somehow gave him incredible strength. He must have taken the powerboat that brought you here to your beach campsite, and in the middle of the night set anchor, waded ashore, and killed one of your members."

"That was Scott."

"We didn't hear from Ethan again. From what we know now he hid out another day, and then was trapped, shot and killed by your group. One of the Others got a look at his body when none of you were around and deduced what had happened."

Alex continued, "Based on those experiences, the Others determined that your group would never trust them or cooperate with them willingly. Therefore they planned that elaborate scheme to capture you. They would prefer not to kill anybody else, as is evidenced by the fact that they could easily have killed everyone on the raft if they wanted to, but they will kill if they feel that someone is stopping them from achieving their goal of getting cured. I'm sorry events have placed you in this situation," she concluded sadly.

"Hey, it's not your fault. I owe you a lot of thanks for helping me get through this so far. You're in a rotten situation too. I really wish we were both out of here."

"Some day that will happen, but you have to be patient."

Alex feared that Walt was not sufficiently patient, and was correct. For the next several days, Walt acted like a good boy, lowering Alex's guard. Then he got braver, and took some more quick trips to the last two cross tunnels. But he could never budge the heavy metal door, and the rocks blocking the last tunnel were too heavy to move. He could chip away at them with his tools, but that would make noise, and would probably take forever.

One month into his captivity Walt took some time to consider his situation. His accomplishments included mining what must have been tons of otherite ore by now, growing two or three centimeters taller, and growing an Afro fully a decimeter thick. That wasn't satisfactory; he had to do something about it. When he had a chance, he took another trip to the last, rock-blocked tunnel. To his surprise, he heard a new sound, as if some tool was hitting the rock quite some distance away. It might have been many things, but it gave Walt hope.


	15. Trail to the Arch

Michael has a hard time admitting Walt is not around, and Locke and company investigate the mysterious arch.

* * *

The caves now resembled an infirmary. Shannon and Sayid had been laid next to Sawyer. It was not a coincidence that Shannon was in the middle; Jack was playing it safe by keeping the men separated in case hard feelings were still present. Was it bad luck to have your name start with "S"? No, just a coincidence; Sun was still physically fine. Jack was very busy with his new patients. Sun had done an excellent job with the limited supply of medicine she had, and it made his job much simpler. The bulk of the remaining antibiotics had been left in the cave, and the doctor cleaned and redressed the wounds in his professional manner. When awake, Sawyer was his usual sarcastic self, which had to be a sign of encouragement. But it was clear to even an untrained eye that he was bored, and annoyed at his state of being useless.

Shannon and Sayid both felt responsible for their injuries. Shannon had been a bit reckless in picking up the booby-trapped shirt, and Sayid was a bit slow in recognizing the danger. In a sense it was appropriate they would have to recover together. Jack, being cautious as usual, insisted they rest for a few days. That wasn't so bad for Shannon, but Sayid had a much more difficult time accepting this fate.

Michael was in a state of denial. The day after the round-the-island excursion ended, he was back organizing another search party to take another look at the area where Walt's clothes had been found. The other castaways didn't want Michael searching alone, so another group of half a dozen was formed and made the expedition to the western part of the island. Thanks to Vincent, Michael found Walt's remaining sock and a piece of the other leg of his shorts, but there was nothing else to be found. No more booby traps, no footprints, no trails of broken twigs or anything that gave any indication that anybody had gone past the point of the booby trap that Shannon triggered. After three days of searching Michael had to admit that everyone else was right. The Others had set this all up as a diversion. As the group headed back to the caves, ominous rain clouds developed. They made it back just as a storm started.

As Michael walked past his injured friends, he realized that he had been so obsessed with Walt's welfare that he hadn't shown enough consideration for those who had been wounded in the rescue effort. Looking at Sawyer, Sayid, and Shannon, he said, "Hey guys, I really appreciate what you've done for me. I'm sorry all this happened to you …"

"Think nothing of it," interrupted Sayid. "You would have done the same if our positions were reversed. We all know what it is like to lose a loved one."

Shannon agreed, while Sawyer quietly came up with,

"Mike, you can save your thanks till when you find your boy," in a voice loud enough for only Michael to hear.

"You know I'll never give up," answered Michael. "And you're going to be around to see him when he gets back."

During this latest expedition Jack felt compelled to remain near his patients at all times. In a few days Shannon and Sayid should recover, but Sawyer's wound was more serious. However, Sawyer didn't want attention and preferred to be left alone. In any case, Locke and Kate were left alone to explore the tunnels below the hatch. Hurley remained nervous yet curious as their guard, and noticed that as a side benefit he was getting more exercise and losing a little weight with all these trips and pacing around in general at the top.

Naturally Locke couldn't wait to see what was past the hole that only Kate could get through. The next few days were spent moving more rocks out of the way. At one point, the structure collapsed so that the hole Kate had crawled through collapsed, but through sheer determination a path around the top of the mound of rocks was created, large enough for anyone except perhaps Hurley to climb over. Locke lost no time in getting over at his first opportunity. He marveled at the spectacle Kate had seen three days earlier. Several more tunnels terminating in dead ends were present, but there was that fascinating arch with the curious figures etched into it. While gazing at those, his flashlight started to flicker.

Locke desperately wanted to remain, but reason took over. It would be too dangerous to stay in pitch-blackness, and it would be risky for Kate to climb over as well, or toss her flashlight over the rocks. The arch would be there tomorrow. He climbed back over the rock pile, up the rope ladder with Kate, and headed to the caves with Hurley, who had become agitated over what looked like an impending storm. They weren't quite quick enough and got soaked near the end, arriving fifteen minutes after Michael and his crew.

This time Locke underestimated the severity of the storm. It rained all night, and all the next day. Arzt had been right; monsoon season was here, with all its heavy downpours and thunder and lightning. It wasn't safe to make any long trips under these conditions. The rain let up at night, but returned in full force the next morning. An annoying pattern developed, with heavy rainfalls for most of the day for the next two weeks. In the brief intervals of sunlight, repairs had to be made to the castaways' living quarters, trails cleared, gardens attended to, and food gathered. The only good thing was that they now had a vast supply of fresh water.

During that fortnight Locke tried to remember if he had ever seen those symbols before. He wanted to think that he had, but that was more likely wishful thinking. In any case, he had to find out what was through the hallway guarded by that arch. Eventually the rain let up, and Locke was off. Shannon and Sayid had pretty much recovered from their wounds; though there were some small cuts left as evidence of their mishap. Sayid again questioned Locke if he was certain investigating the hatch was a good idea.

"Nope," Locke answered, "but I have to." Locke felt that the island demanded him to find out.

With Shannon and Sayid in better shape, and Sawyer requiring and insisting on less attention, Jack accompanied Locke and Kate on the next visit to the hatch. Hurley remained the trustworthy guard as always, curiosity winning out over fear that the numbers inscribed on the hatch were bad. Jack made a trip over the rock pile, which was barely low enough below the ceiling for him to crawl through, and then returned to make that rock barrier more passable. The trio felt that many more trips through there would be made soon, so an easier path might as well be made. Locke again took some tools to the arch, and started hacking away at the latest rockslide. One month after blowing open the hatch, he was certain something of vital importance was in that blockaded corridor.


	16. To Send a Message

Author's notes: To anon, let's say Walt is growing faster than normal instead of aging rapidly. It isn't my intention to shorten his lifespan. Regarding an earlier comment by Zombie Kitty, I now have a use for the numbers in mind, but it is a long time coming. More characters will be involved in the future. Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

Walt attempts to send a message through the last, forbidden corridor blocked by rocks.

* * *

After hearing the noise of some object hitting rock, Walt couldn't think of anything else. He went up to the edge of the rock fall, and listened. The sounds were coming at regular intervals, but not perfectly evenly spaced. That made it more likely that they were manmade rather than a machine. The sounds were muffled quite a bit; it was obvious that the other end of the rock pile was not close, but perhaps twenty or thirty meters away. It was impossible to know for sure. Stepping back to examine the obstruction, Walt observed that the rockslide rose clear to the ceiling. In fact, it looked like the ceiling itself had been damaged, and may have been a main source of the debris. 

Walt tried to determine if it was possible that his friends were digging in the mines, looking for him. He knew he was well underground, more than ten meters for sure. He didn't remember any such excavations made by the castaways. Maybe this was some sort of trap. But it would have to be an extremely complicated one, and that just seemed too unlikely. After some more thought, Walt remembered a spooky incident with Locke. The man who had taught him backgammon and how to throw knives had just grabbed Walt's forearm, and a premonition struck the boy.

"Don't open it!" Walt had warned.

Locke pretended not to know what the youngster was talking about, but on that occasion was a complete failure.

"Whatever it is, don't open it!"

Walt sensed that Locke had ignored his warning, and was frightened so much that he had rather taken his chances on the dangerous raft. Walt didn't know what he was talking about, but it sounded like some kind of door. A door into a cave? Or maybe into the ground? It was possible that Locke had done something of the sort. Walt reconsidered his premonition. He had been certain he was right, and that opening "it" would be dangerous. On the other hand, he did not foresee his kidnapping at all. He had even encouraged his father to fire the flare. On this occasion he appeared to be dead wrong, so it was possible he was also wrong about opening the gate into some subterranean network of tunnels.

Now deciding that he was thinking rationally, Walt made up his mind to communicate with whoever was at the other end. He hit a rock with his fist, but that didn't produce much sound, and would only hurt him if he kept it up. Shouting would attract the attention of Alex and/or the Others. He would have to get one of the tools from the wheelbarrow and strike the rocks hard with it.

Walt emerged from the last tunnel and headed back to the third-to-last, where he had left the wheelbarrow and tools. He picked up the hammer and was ready to go back, but when he looked up the corridor he saw Alex approaching. He had been contemplating the rocks so far long that he had lost track of time. Consequently, this morning's output of otherite ore was the lowest he produced, by a good margin, in the month he had been there.

"Is that all you got?" asked a worried-looking Alex. Her face seemed paler than usual, and a bit horror-stricken.

Walt had to come up with a reasonable answer in a hurry. "I had a hard time detecting the stuff today. Maybe that thing they injected me with is wearing off."

Walt studied Alex's reaction. The answer might have been good enough for her, but what about for the Others? She silently walked back to Walt's room, with Walt pushing the wheelbarrow as usual, but this time loaded with just a paltry collection of ore. Lunch was consumed in an awkward silence. In the afternoon, Alex followed Walt for a while, making sure he was working, and then left him in half an hour. When the coast was clear, Walt made a beeline for that last corridor, hammer in hand. The periodic noise was still present, but if it was any closer Walt couldn't tell. He banged his hammer hard three times on a rock at his edge of the rockslide.

The noise at the other end stopped. Then there were three consecutive sounds, evenly spaced apart. It appeared for all the world that whoever was at the other end had heard Walt's hammer blows. Now how to send a message? At least Walt knew what an SOS was. Three quick blows, then three blows with a long pause in between each, and three more quick blows. While he was thinking, more sounds came, in a fairly regular pattern involving the dots and dashes of Morse code. But who knew Morse code these days? If there was one person from the plane who knew, Walt was certain who it must be.

The message had unquestionably been received. How could he send a more informative message? Unfortunately, Walt didn't know any real codes. Well, there was that thing with "A" being one, "B" being two, and so on until "Z" being twenty-six. Well, why not try it; what did he have to lose? When the pounding on the other side stopped, Walt counted off the letters. Twenty-three strikes stood for "W", one for "A", twelve for "L", and finally twenty for "T". He could hardly breathe while he waited for a response. After a minute, twelve sounds came in rapid succession. Then a pause, and fifteen more. Then three, and eleven, and five. L-O-C-K-E.

Now Walt was extremely excited. He desperately wanted to chip away at the rocks on his side, but wasn't going to get anywhere with just a hammer. And the noises didn't seem to be coming appreciably closer. Locke and anyone he might be with still had a lot of rock to cut through. But Walt had an opportunity to ask the question that had been on his mind the past month. Eight hammer blows, then fifteen, then twenty-three again, and soon he had spelled out, "How is Dad?" After a minute of silence, the response came. Starting with four strikes, the message was, "Dad is OK. Be here same time tomorrow."

It was extremely difficult, but Walt eventually forced himself to get out of there. He wasn't going to be able to contribute anything significant from his end. It was apparent it would take some time to break through, and if he lingered there too long, the Others would find him out. He peeked into the main tunnel corridor, saw no one, and quickly made his way back to near the central cavern to resume his mining. "Tomorrow will be a memorable day," he thought. He was right about that, but completely wrong about the reason why it would be memorable.

When Alex appeared to mark the end of the working day, she was practically in tears.

"What's wrong?" asked Walt. Was there something wrong with her, or had he been caught, or suspected? He looked at the meager ore collection for the day, and guessed that might have something to do with it. "Are you sick?" When there was no response, he continued, "If it's the otherite, I'll get more tomorrow, I promise. It was just a slow day for me."

Alex managed just a slight nod, and mechanically wheeled the barrow off to the laboratory and returned with dinner, as per the usual routine. But she was obviously bothered, and ate in silence. When they were finished, she departed with the dinnerware as customary, allowing Walt to wash up in the adjoining bathroom to get ready for bed. On this night he had an uneasy feeling, which turned out to be justified.

When Alex had returned with the small amount of ore at noon, the Others were immediately suspicious. They ordered her to pretend to Walt that everything was normal, so that she would accompany him for a short time after lunch, and then return from the mines. Then one of the Others made the long trip all the way down to the last corridor. Well before he reached it, he could hear the hammer blows. When he did get to the end of the main tunnel, walking silently, he peeked in and saw Walt hammering away, apparently trying to send some sort of message. The Other remained unseen since Walt's back was turned. The Other was sure it would take several days to break through all that nearly solid rock, so he simply reported back to the rest of the Others his findings, and they had a discussion on how to deal with this matter.

As Walt entered his bedroom from the short corridor to his bathroom, his face was immediately covered by a rag soaked in chloroform. Someone had been standing against the bedroom wall beside the connecting passageway. Walt found out with a single inhalation what the chemical smelled like. As unconsciousness took place five seconds later, all he had time to think was, "Something bad is going to happen to me."


	17. Rescue Attempt

Author's notes: To ZK: Thanks. It isn't my intention to guess who the next death will be, or try to incorporate that into this. I don't like killing characters, unless maybe if they're the bad guys, but anyone can suffer serious hardships. Actually, I was originally planning on finishing this before Season 2 starts, since the real show will have almost nothing in common with this story except maybe for Jin helping Sawyer back to the raft. Then I kept getting more ideas I wanted to put in, and I realize that won't happen now, so now I'm hoping I can finish before the next main character death, if there is one. I suppose if there is more demand I could keep going anyway, but it wouldn't feel as right using a character who is currently dead. I'd be more inclined to start a new story with the character dead at the outset. I'm more concerned that the actor playing Walt will be kicked out if the real writers aren't clever enough to account for the growth discrepancy, and created this as a possibility.

Also, I do feel I'm being true to the real show by not having the first rescue attempt succeed. The Lostaways are going to have to overcome more adversity, but they're a tough bunch.

* * *

Locke, Kate, and Jack try to reach Walt, but not all goes well.

* * *

Locke was obsessed, trying to clear the passageway past the arch that was blocked by numerous heavy rocks. The path had become narrower, so it was difficult for more than one person to work there at a time. He used the levers and shovels he had, but progress was slow. The passage was blocked clear up to the ceiling, and it looked like the roof might have caved in down the corridor. He chopped at the rocks with the claw of a hammer, sort of as an improvised pickaxe. But after an hour, he had only made about five feet of progress. He was beginning to think that Kate might have been right, and they would have to resort to using dynamite on the heavy metal door they found in the first tunnel they encountered after having descended down the hatch. 

Locke was almost ready to give up when the silence was broken by three distinct sounds, as if some metal tool was hitting rock way on the other side of the rock fall. Locke was genuinely startled. Was someone trying to communicate with him? He echoed the signal, smashing his hammer hard on the massive boulders. Then there came an SOS. This was nearly unbelievable. The sounds were muffled, indicating that there was a lot of rock between the two communicating, but the intended meaning of the message was clear. Locke yelled "Hello!" at the top of his lungs, but that only brought Kate, who had been gazing at the other dead end tunnels.

"What is it?" she asked.

"There's got to be somebody on the other side of this. They just sent an SOS."

"Any idea who it could be?"

"I don't know. Perhaps Danielle? Let me try this."

Familiar with Morse code from his study of things military, Locke tapped out the message, di-dah-dah di-di-di-dit dah-dah-dah, di-dah di-dah-dit dit, dah-di-dah-dah dah-dah-dah di-di-dah; the Morse for "Who are you?" But there was no response for a minute.

"Are you sure you heard what you think you did?" enquired a now skeptical Kate.

Just then, a series of rapid strikes came through. There were far too many to be a part of Morse code. After a short pause, they heard a single sharp blow. As another series started, Locke kicked himself for not counting the number in the first series, but the current series ended after an even dozen. Then one more came, this one with an even score.

After half a minute's thought, Locke dropped his hammer in a state of utter shock. "Oh … my … God." In his previous life, he had seen any number of games with letters matched with numbers, like Battleship. He explained to Kate,

"That single blow we heard, stands for the letter 'A.' Then there were twelve, which would be 'L.' The last one had twenty, which is 'T.' The first letter I missed, but it seemed like at least twenty as well. Can you think of any four-letter words ending in 'ALT,' with the first letter late in the alphabet?"

The realization hit Kate. "Walt? How is that possible?"

"I have an idea to be sure. I'll transmit my name using the same code." Locke pounded his hammer on the closest rock twelve times, actually breaking the stone into smaller pieces in the process, helping their cause. Then fifteen, and soon he had spelled out his surname.

While Locke and Kate anxiously waited for a response, Kate asked, "How could Walt have gotten there and be sending a message? His kidnappers wouldn't allow it."

Locke answered, "What you're saying makes sense. My guess is that those Others are using him to look for something in these mines, and maybe they let their guard down for a little while since there haven't been any incidents in a month. But I can't help feeling he might be taking an awful chance sending these messages. We're not breaking through all this rock soon, so let's try to keep this short."

"I think you're right," agreed Kate.

Then another message was received. This one spelled out, "How is Dad?"

This time Kate was counting out the letters with Locke. "That does sound like the first thing he'd ask," noted Kate.

"I know what to send now," said Locke. He quickly pounded out, "Dad is OK. Be here same time tomorrow."

"Do you really think we can clear all this out in one day?" asked Kate.

"Not a chance, but what else can we do? If Walt made it to where he is now, it is likely he can do so again tomorrow. Then we can send an update. We have to give him hope, and if he is in a dangerous situation, he can leave now before the Others find him out."

Locke and Kate then went to Jack, who was resting at the bottom of the hatch, and told him of their findings. Jack was equally amazed.

"Should we tell Michael?" asked Kate.

Locke said, "I don't know about that. If this doesn't work he could be completely devastated."

Jack replied, "Michael will be furious at us for not telling him."

Locke responded, "If we get Walt back, Michael will not be furious."

"All right, let's give it a day. We can take turns clearing the debris."

Jack thought about asking some of the other men at the caves to help, but Kate shot him a glare indicating "I can do this." With her adrenalin racing at a high with a strong desire to prove herself, Jack kept his tongue. Three people would be enough for this if they could only work one at a time.

The trio let Hurley in on their newly acquired information, and informed him of their decision to take shifts and work around the clock.

Hurley mumbled, "The numbers are bad. I'm sure the numbers are bad."

"What's that?" asked Jack.

Hurley decided to answer, "Just be real careful down there, Doc. Somehow I don't have a good feeling about this. It could be some weird trap."

"We have to take this chance," announced Locke, and that was the end of the discussion.

Hurley wasn't about to stay alone outside at night, nor go into the hatch himself, so Jack and Kate walked him back to the caves at dusk. Locke and Jack returned for him the next morning. All the while one of Locke, Kate, and Jack was pounding away and levering rocks aside.

When it was time for one of Locke's shifts, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Jack and Kate had made substantial progress. They had been clearing some smaller rocks near the ceiling like they had done at the first rockslide they had encountered, and it looked like a real passage might be made within another day. With renewed fervor Locke toiled away. Kate remained at the back edge of the rock pile, pushing aside some of the rocks Locke dislodged at the top. It appeared that he was hours away from completely breaking through.

Then suddenly they heard a most unwelcome, yet familiar sound. The same sound they had heard just before they blew the hatch. It was the sound of a fuse. Someone had wedged some sticks of dynamite in a crack between the boulders. But this fuse was nowhere near as long as the one they had used a month ago.

"Run!" screamed Locke, as he scrambled back down the hill of rocks. Kate did so quite expeditiously, but Locke wasn't fast enough. Within seconds, a tremendous explosion rocked the tunnels. Locke was near the bottom of the pile, but felt an avalanche of rocks and earth surround him. He could feel his legs being pinned under their weight, and then everything went dark.


	18. Trying to Break Walt

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews! This story is turning out much longer than I had originally anticipated. This chapter is rather intense, and it was an uneasy experience writing it; but things will get better. I have four more chapters in mind, but have to invent something to connect to them. As for finding out about updates, there is a feature "Add Story to Story Alert" as a button on the same menu as "Submit Review."

* * *

The Others attempt to quash any further thoughts of disobedience by Walt

* * *

Walt woke to a drop of water splashing on his forehead, right between his eyes. His mind slowly cleared, and he remembered that his last thought was that he was going to be in trouble, but hoped that by keeping his eyes closed it would go away. Maybe this was a bad dream, and he would wake up all better. If it wasn't a dream, he didn't want to open his eyes for fear of discovering what the Others had in store for him for trying to make contact with his friends. A couple of seconds later another water drop smacked him right in the center of his chest. No big deal yet, but then another drop landed in his belly button, creating an odd sensation. "I don't want to know what's going on," thought the still groggy Walt, when another drop landed between his eyes. A pattern was developing. Walt was tired, and didn't feel like moving, but reluctantly decided to move off to the side to avoid the annoying trickle. 

The next thing Walt realized was that moving was not an option. He opened his eyes, and found that his arms and legs were stretched taut toward the corners of a heavy table in an unfamiliar room. His hands and feet were manacled, although again there was padding on the interior surfaces, so that the edges of the manacles were not digging into his skin. Remembering Alex's words that the Others didn't want him physically harmed, he reasoned that this was to prevent injury so that he could still be productive after this ordeal. But was he going to get through this ordeal? Looking up, he could see that he had been positioned under a leaky pipe that ran parallel to his body. Walt thought it was incredibly mean of the Others to do something like this. After further thought, it wasn't so incredible; if they were mean enough to kidnap him for slave labor they must be capable of doing any number of nasty things to him.

"Hey!" he yelled out, but there was no one else in the room.

Walt tried turning his head to the left to avoid the next water drop, but it hit him in the outside corner of his right eye. Turning his head as far as he could to the right produced the same result for his left eye. If he didn't turn his head far enough, the drops would hit his eyelids, at least if he closed them in time. Furthermore, the simple act of rotating his head increased the strain on his limbs, making them feel like they were being pulled out of their sockets. Walt figured it was best to tough it out by keeping his head centered and still. Maybe it was best to regard this as a challenge, and prove his toughness.

The next difficulty was a sudden realization that his arms were going numb. All he could do to alleviate this was to clench and unclench his fingers. This helped, but if he didn't do it often the uncomfortably numb feeling would return. Walt also thought of wiggling his toes to help keep his legs from a similar fate. He could keep this up for some time, but had no clue as to how long he was going to be here.

The feeling of helplessness and vulnerability was close to unbearable. Walt tried pulling on the chains, but that only caused pain while he couldn't budge a millimeter. Even taking a deep breath caused discomfort. Only by holding still would most of the pain cease, but he was still subject to those annoying drops of water, inexorably hitting his body. Without freedom of movement or anyone to talk to, Walt could only think to himself. He wasn't going to be physically harmed? He found that hard to believe. His joints would surely be aching when the Others let him go. Of course they would let him go eventually, they still needed him right? They wouldn't want to wait for baby Aaron to grow up in ten years. No, what the Others were probably doing was to damage him mentally. He would have to keep his mind constantly occupied.

While keeping his eyes closed to avoid the drips on his head, Walt thought again about his insistence on going on the raft. There had to be a reason for that feeling, but it was most probably not so that he could wind up like this. He might gain another centimeter in height because of this, but that also was not a good reason. Maybe he was destined to defeat the Others, or perhaps what was more likely rescue Alex. It was also possible that Locke's ignoring Walt's warning against opening the hatch was the cause of this. No! It wasn't fair to blame Locke; the blame was entirely with those sick, depraved Others.

As Walt tried to think of anything to keep his mind occupied, the endless dripping was really bugging him. His brain was starting to function abnormally. After an hour Walt got an overpowering impulse to move, but the best he could do, after shaking his head to clear the water that had pooled in his eye sockets, was to raise his head a little and look down the length of his body. That strained his arms again, but it was worth it. His navel had filled with water, and was now overflowing. Walt guessed that that was an instance of the Other's warped sense of humor. But now Walt himself was beginning to find it amusing, feeling the splashes in the tiny lake and being powerless to do anything about it. Soon, there was a little river running down the center of his body, as some of the water hitting his chest trickled down to his belly button, while some trickled up to a small pool at his throat.

Walt lost track of time, though hours had been passing. Hour after hour he tried to keep his mind sharp, but was losing control thanks to the incessant dripping. His thoughts had turned to observations like the Others had done a magnificent job in immobilizing him. How exactly had they done that? Turning his head the limited amount that he could, he ascertained that the manacles were connected to chains that had been wrapped tightly around the side edges of the table, and then apparently anchored to the table legs. This solidly pinned his shoulder blades to the table, as well as his rear end, the sides of his calves, and the backs of his forearms. He might have well as been glued to the table.

Another thought was that he had overheard that the French lady had done something like this to Sayid, but gave him electric shocks. At least Walt's treatment didn't involve electricity, so he felt it could have been worse. Then he again thought about the times when Locke treated him like an adult while Michael was treating him as a child. Now Walt wished that he could be living like a normal child in a normal place, who would never have to worry about anything like this. On this island he had been growing up too fast, and very little was normal.

That still wasn't a particularly healthy way of thinking, but there wasn't anything else to do. Walt sorely wanted to fall asleep, and have this done with when he woke, but the incessant "drip, drip, splash" pattern prevented his hope of slumber. Now the water was overflowing the pools in his navel and on his throat to such a degree that it was running down his sides and the sides of his neck, causing a tickling sensation. The Others were winning, but it wasn't fair. They could keep him secured like this indefinitely, say until his mind snapped. It looked like this might not be too far off now. Walt had a difficult time thinking of anything other than the irritating dripping.

Desperately trying to think of anything else to preserve his sanity, Walt wound up thinking about his cartoons and comic books. Characters got tied up all the time in those, and what was his typical reaction? He laughed at them. He had laughed at the bad guys being tied up, and he had laughed at the good guys being tied up. Now maybe it wasn't so funny when it happened in real life. No longer thinking rationally, Walt felt that maybe this was some kind of poetic justice. No, that wasn't enough; he deserved to be laughed at as well. But there was no one else there. Could he laugh at himself? He pictured what he must look like, wearing only that silly little boarskin loincloth and helplessly spread-eagled on the table. Would he laugh at that image in a comic book? He had to admit that he would, and starting laughing for real. That induced a painful strain on his arms but it didn't matter. The harder he laughed, the more hilarious that image became. In a state of delirium, Walt was roaring uncontrollably, somehow oblivious to the pain, when mercifully he passed out.

Walt awoke curled up on the floor in his room, shaking. There was an intense ache in his shoulders, which partially dissipated as he rubbed them. His legs and back also ached, but not as badly. Slowly his brain recalled his ordeal of the past several hours. He had lost track of time; he had no clue as to how long he had been tormented, nor how long he had been unconscious. He struggled to the bathroom, and noticed that his possessions, like the toothpaste and nail clippers, were still there. Except that the shorts and underwear he had when he first came here, but hadn't worn in weeks, were gone, and there was now just the other loincloth, his change of clothes, on the clothesline. He guessed that the Others might have some demented plan for his old garments, hopefully not another ruse to throw his rescuers off the track.

After washing up, Walt curled up on his bed, but couldn't sleep, despite the fact that this would be the first time he wasn't going to be chained to it. There was still too much pain in his joints. He knew better than to try to run and escape now; the Others would certainly be nearby, and running would be painful. All he wanted was to fall asleep and have the pain gone when he woke up. But that experience was too recent and overwhelming and horrible to not think about it. He just could not go through anything like that again.

However, that observation did not answer a very important question. Was the communication attempt worth the ordeal? If he knew beforehand what the Others would do to him, would he still have sent those messages through the rock? It didn't take him long to decide that the answer was "yes." Not just yes, but unquestionably "yes." The chance to indicate to his fellow castaways that he was alive and on the island was worth the temporary pain and humiliation, regardless of the intensity. Walt had not been broken.

That realization gave him a warm feeling, and allowed him to drift off toward dreamland. However, he would be a lot more careful in the future. If the Others found out he still was in full possession of his wits, he could be in bigger trouble. Consequently, he determined his best course of action was to pretend, even to Alex, that he had been completely broken and had given up hope. He would passively do everything she or the Others asked, and not ask for anything himself. No comments or questions about anything, like the workload, or the machine behind the metal door, or even haircuts. He would put on the acting performance of his life.


	19. Rescue from a Rockslide

The castaways race to extricate Locke from the rockslide.

* * *

As the avalanche of rocks ended, Kate ran screaming to Jack, who had been cautiously moving in the direction of the noise. They returned to the site, where Kate yanked at a rock at the bottom edge of the pile. She pulled it loose, but more boulders tumbled into place, and the walls spewed forth an ominous shower of dust and pebbles.

"Easy, Kate," warned Jack, "we might set off another slide, and get us all killed. We need more help – lots of it."

Kate had to listen to reason. She yelled at the pile, "Locke, we're coming back for you!" on the off chance that he could hear, and then hurried to the hatch entrance with Jack. Then they went up the rope ladder, and back to the caves with Hurley, filling him in on the way.

"I knew those numbers were bad," muttered Hurley under his breath, but still not giving away his secrets to the other two. The numbers had claimed another victim, possibly two, since if the Others had discovered the message sending, the message sender also stood a good chance of suffering an unfortunate fate. Then again, what if this was the only way to communicate with Walt? He huffed and puffed, trailing the other two, and then holding back as they reached the caves, so his return trip wouldn't be quite as long.

Jack explained the events to all those present in the caves. Michael was dumbfounded.

"You mean Walt is right there, and you didn't tell me!"

"Calm down, we weren't sure, and you couldn't have done anything that we didn't do."

"Take me there, now!"

"Easy, since there's been a cave-in we have to be careful not to make things worse. What do we need to shore it up?"

Michael simmered down, and announced, "There are materials from the plane we can use, like poles and large sheets of metal. I'll show you what we need."

The cave residents collected the materials, and hauled them off to the hatch. Left behind in the caves were Sawyer, who was still too wounded to be useful, and Claire and Aaron. Claire was not about to take Aaron on such a trip, and didn't want to be left alone, so it worked out well that Sawyer could stay behind as well. The baby had been upset by all the commotion, so Sawyer started reading from some magazines that had survived the crash. He and Claire had discovered a month before that for some reason Sawyer's voice had a calming effect on the little one.

It was the first view of the hatch for several of the castaways: Michael, Shannon, Charlie, Jin, and Sun. It had different effects on them. Shannon freaked out, realizing that the discovery of this object had indirectly led to Boone's death. Out of a sense of duty she had brought Vincent along, but now she wanted no part of it. Michael was a mixed bag of emotions – was this the way to find Walt, or did it just cause him more hardships? Charlie had a sense of déjà vu; the cave-in with Jack was too recent and powerful a memory to forget quickly. Would his skills be needed here? Actually, this was good for him; it would take his mind off that stash of heroin for a while. Jin and Sun were left with a sense of wonder, and rapidly talked to each other in Korean.

Some of them would have to go down, but Jack pointed out the need for a stretcher. It would work best with three or four people on it, and it worked out well that Shannon couldn't bear to descend the hatch. She would help with the stretcher, as well as Sun, who had some experience in the nursing field, and Hurley, who had some experience working in a mental hospital. Jack barked out orders, and those four assembled the device from tree branches, and metal pieces and ropes that they had brought.

After Kate showed them the way down the rope ladder, Michael was the next to go down the hatch. He was followed by Charlie, Sayid, and Jin, all of them carrying an assortment of equipment. Michael was struck by the construction of the tunnels. He declared them very well built. The walls and floor were unusually solid, smooth, and uniform. But Kate led the way to the recent rockslide, and it was a different story. Michael prodded the surrounding walls with a long, narrow piece of metal, and detected several places where the walls and ceiling were unstable. Now in command, he confidently issued orders, getting some solid metal pieces from the airplane propped into place with poles, anchored against edges where the wall met the floor. It took over an hour, but eventually he declared,

"This is the best we can do. Let's dig him out now."

Locke woke up as a drop of water hit his face. He was in a very uncomfortable position, and before opening his eyes, tried to remember what happened. His mind was still sharp, and he regretfully recalled a fuse igniting several sticks of dynamite. He tried to move, and found that he couldn't. There must have been boulders all over him, and he couldn't even feel his legs. Trying again, he was able to twist his hands and head a little bit. Another drop of water hit his face, and he realized that water might save him from dying of thirst before he could be unearthed. He strained, twisting his head, and was able to get a drip in the corner of his mouth. It tasted awful. Maybe he could wait a few hours before resorting to that. Locke also tried shouting, but didn't get a response. He hating having to admit he was helpless, but realized his best chance was to conserve his strength.

Kate, Michael, Sayid, Jin, and Charlie formed a boulder brigade. There wasn't enough room for more than two people at the head of the rockslide, and this arrangement was working as well as any they could make. It was hard work, and was taking hours. Eventually Kate and Michael got tired due to the harder work in the front, and were replaced by Sayid and Jin. Still, there was excellent collaboration and sense of purpose among the castaways who hadn't always seen eye to eye.

While conserving energy, Locke lost consciousness. However, vivid images quickly occupied his subconscious mind. First he saw Walt, crying plaintively for help. Something was horribly wrong; this Walt was immobile, unable to do anything more than call out. This image was replaced by a mirror, and suddenly Locke was looking at his own face. He wanted to move, but was paralyzed below the neck as well. Now it was he who was helplessly calling out for aid. The face changed again, and now was replaced by a sinister image of a bloodied Boone.

"You sacrificed me to the island," spoke Boone in a haunting voice. "Now it is time for your sacrifice."

Locke woke with a start, banging his head on a boulder. The water was still dripping, but there was something else. Sounds similar to those he had heard the day – or was it two days? – before: the sounds of tools striking rock.

"I'm here!" he yelled, and tried hitting a rock with his fist in a further effort to make noise. The noises grew louder and closer, and within another hour a gust of air suddenly swept across his face.

The job still wasn't done. Now it was mainly Michael and Charlie prying away the loosened boulders around Locke's body. Locke was distressed that he couldn't aid in the effort as he legs were pinned up to the moment that he was finally freed. But an hour after Locke's head became visible, he was finally freed.

The stretcher had long been finished, and Jack tested it by being carried around by Hurley, Sun, and Shannon. After some fine-tuning, it was deemed fit for use. Jack went down the hatch with the stretcher being lowered alongside him. He made his way to the collapsed tunnel, and oversaw the placing of Locke into the stretcher. Then carefully he was transported back to the bottom of the rope ladder. The rope used to lower the stretcher was reattached, and straps placed under Locke's arms to keep his weight off his badly damaged legs. Then he was raised to the surface, and carried back to the caves, with the other castaways taking shifts.

As Locke was being carted away, it occurred to Michael to bring Vincent to the edge of the hatch opening. The Labrador's reaction surprised Michael: the dog yelped, and as if terribly frightened, bolted away so quickly that Michael barely held onto the leash. Michael wondered if Vincent sensed that another trip into the hatch was a bad idea.

Back at the caves with all his medical equipment, Jack made the examination. When he was done, he had this news for Locke.

"I'm afraid both your legs are broken. That's not surprising considering what fell on them; it would be surprising if they weren't. Fortunately your upper body is in surprisingly good shape. There are many bruises and scratches, a few of them deep, but nowhere near life threatening. You probably felt the antibiotics as I applied them. But you're going to be off your feet for a few months, at least.

I hope you'll consider this good news; we managed to save a wheelchair from Oceanic Air. You will be able to get around a little in that, but at first someone will have to push you. I don't know if you've spent any significant amount of time in one of these, but it is important to take it easy. I'm going to make casts for your legs. If you can avoid any further damage, you should be able to get around on crutches in a month or two."

Locke was rather dejected. "I'm sure I can handle it," he replied, and then waited for Jack to make casts for his poor, broken limbs. At least he would have a lot of time to think, and he needed such time now.


	20. Testing the Breaking Attempt

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews Deanna, Pip4, October Sky, and Zombie Kitty!

Pip4, you are not weird, if anyone is it is I, because I have taken the lack of Walt appearing in any of the season 2 cast photos, and various rumors, badly. I fear that he will have a greatly diminished role, and then may be written off entirely because the writers and producers won't be able to deal with the aging problem satisfactorily. It will be horrible if he gets replaced by another actor, which would never be the real Walt, or if he ends up living some unrealistic happy magical existence with the Others, never to be seen again. So I have created this story. I may have gone overboard, but I wanted to build up the character by having him overcome several tough obstacles before … well, it wouldn't be right to spoil my story here. I also had the idea for the Walt-Locke parallel in the last two chapters for some time, and it's too late to change that now. Walt has been roughed up in some other post-Exodus fanfics, but I don't think any of them have persevered like I have.

Zombie Kitty, there will be more chapters on the other characters. Thanks for the suggestions. I hope my Charlie one is unique. But next up is my Michael – Locke scene, which I am really hoping turns out well.

* * *

The Others test Walt to determine if he really has been broken.

* * *

After a length of time he couldn't begin to determine, Walt woke up starving, but with a new sense of confidence. Having gone through what he had just experienced without losing his mind made him feel that he had a good chance of eventually getting out of this place in one piece. His father and friends would certainly be looking for him, trying to reach him another way. They wouldn't give up after that thwarted attempt. However, he was well aware of the difference between confidence and overconfidence, and he would have to keep his wits about him. He most definitely did not want to undergo another experience like that again. The Others were likely to try to verify that he had been broken, and it would be bad news if he didn't convince them that he had. Walt would do all his talking in a sad, resigned voice.

Soon Alex appeared carrying a meal, but her appearance was dreadful. She looked like she hadn't slept, eaten, or washed in a couple days.

"Oh, no, what did they to do you?" Walt enquired.

"It was nothing compared to what they did to you," Alex replied. "The Others locked me in a small box for twelve hours, with one break in the middle."

"That's horrible! Why would they do that to you?"

"Because I failed to convince you to follow their instructions."

"Oh, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for anything like that to happen to you. Those Others have got to be the meanest people in the world." Walt paused for a few seconds, and then added, "So you know what they did to me?"

"Yes. They took me to a window to that … chamber … that you couldn't see. This was about an hour and a half after we finished dinner last night. They told me you had been secured like that for an hour, and you were still there six hours later when I had my one break. It was difficult to see how you were because you were not moving at all. Apparently you were stretched out just about eight hours. You really are very brave. I would have been crying to be released within a few minutes. You since have slept through the rest of the day, and it is dinnertime once again."

"Uh, thank you. I didn't think anyone was there, and didn't think of crying out to be let go, but I doubt very much that they would have."

"I have to agree with you on that. I believe the Others checked on you only occasionally; they are constantly busy with other things."

"Well, at least that's over. I couldn't stand going through anything like that again."

Alex hesitated, and gave Walt the impression that there was more bad news. "It isn't over. Two days ago you told me that the injection appeared to be wearing off. The Others have decided you need a booster shot of sorts. If they administer it, it will keep you from working for another full day, so they want me to give it to you."

"Oh, I was just saying that to explain why I didn't get much otherite that day. I don't really need another injection."

"That does not matter. The Others see two possibilities: either you told the truth, in which case you need the injection, or you lied, in which case you need to be punished, with the most appropriate punishment being the second injection."

Walt could tell he was in a no-win situation. But thinking quickly, he realized that this did present an opportunity to convince Alex, and then the Others, that he had been broken by his recent harrowing experience.

"Let me guess. If I refuse, the Others are going to throw me in their torture chamber again. And then they'll inject me with that stuff anyway."

Alex opened her mouth, but no words came out. That was plenty of indication that Walt had an accurate grasp of the situation.

With a resigned expression on his face, Walt continued, "Let's just get this over with. "Do you know what they did for that first injection?"

Alex answered, "I have the general idea. Apparently they had to tie you to a chair so you wouldn't hurt anyone. I have to prepare for that now." They had just finished dinner, and Alex collected the dishes and departed. Walt took the opportunity to use his bathroom, and braced himself for another unpleasant experience.

Within a few minutes Alex returned with a collection of ropes, a bottle of iodine, and a syringe. She had quite a sad expression on her face, definitely wishing that she did not have to do what she was being forced to.

Continuing from where they left off, Walt noted, "The way they injected me the first time was awful. Those goons tied me really tight with my arms down behind my back. They didn't need to do that. Here let me show you how it should be." Walt suddenly grabbed two of the ropes, sat down in one of the chairs, and tied his legs rather loosely to the chair legs. "That's all that is necessary." Then he placed his forearms on the chair arms. "And there's no reason to bend my arms backwards. "Now just tie my arms like my legs."

Alex was surprised by Walt's gestures, but after a moment's thought they made sense. She wrapped two more ropes several times around Walt's arms, binding them to the arms of the chair more tightly than Walt wished, but Alex was justifiably afraid that more harm would come to both of them if he weren't secured well enough.

Walt then strained against the ropes, but he was trussed up well enough. Maybe if he worked very hard at sliding his arms back and forth he could get loose, but that would only land in him more trouble. At least this time he wasn't uncomfortable. When Alex asked him which shoulder he had been injected the first time, he answered his left, so now Alex swabbed his right shoulder with the iodine. As she was ready for the injection, Walt asked,

"What happens after this?"

"You are to be chained to your bed for the night, and start working again tomorrow morning."

Sensing another opportunity to convince Alex that he really had been broken by being by the water torture, Walt responded, "Nooo, I really couldn't stand being chained up again like that so soon. I'd rather just sit like this all night. It may seem weird but after that it feels better to be able to bend my elbows and knees."

Alex offered, "That does not sound weird to me; actually it seems quite logical. I'll check to see if that is possible." Then she steeled herself, and emptied the contents of the syringe into Walt's shoulder.

Knowing what to expect was very useful, so Walt was ready for the pain. However, it was still great enough that he jerked violently around in his chair, and not being tied to it exceptionally firmly, wound up falling over backwards. In a few seconds more the pain subsided, leaving Walt breathing heavily on his back, with his feet in the air over the ends of the chair legs.

Alex then sullenly clamped a manacle connected to the bed onto Walt's right ankle. "You understand I have to do this. I'll go ask the Others if it's okay to leave you like this tonight."

Walt wasn't expecting this, but this could turn out to be okay. He was giving the impression that he was so terrified of being helplessly spread-eagled again that he would rather spend the night in this awkward and undignified position. Besides, sleeping on his back would probably be more comfortable than trying to sleep in a sitting position.

Alex gave her report to the Others, displaying the empty syringe. In a sad but otherwise emotionless voice she stated, "The boy appears to be in satisfactory condition physically, but his mental state is another matter. He went through with the injection quite willingly when he realized what could happen if he refused. In fact, he is so terrified of being stretched out again that he is begging to be allowed to sleep tied to the chair in his room, which fell over on its back."

The Others were silent for a few seconds, and then the leader burst out laughing, an evil, wicked laugh. He was soon joined by his confederates. The breaking of Walt appeared to have been successful. "Well, I think we can be gracious this one time," the leader sarcastically proclaimed. "But tell him no more favors until he has collected enough of our precious mineral."

Alex returned with what would have to pass for good news. "The Others have graciously consented to let you sleep like that for tonight only. Of course it is back to work tomorrow." She then left to get some badly needed rest herself.

Despite his silly position, Walt figured that would count as a victory. Had the Others thought he was faking being broken, they would have him stretched out on a bed or table again. Now it actually felt good to be able to squirm a bit, flexing his knees and elbows as far as the ropes would permit. It wasn't a whole lot, but it was plenty to keep Walt going with his mind fully intact.


	21. Michael's and Locke's Talk

Author's notes: Finally an incident from Chapters 3 and 4 is reexamined by Michael. To the reviewers, thanks again for the reviews and ideas!

* * *

Michael starts planning another resuce mission and has a heart-to-heart with Locke.

* * *

Michael slept very badly the night after he led the effort to free Locke from the rockslide. There was just too much going on to comprehend. Was that really Walt down in the mines sending a message? Locke seemed sure. It would have to be an extremely elaborate ruse if that wasn't the case. Kate had told Michael that the first thing the message sender asked after transmitting his name was "How is Dad?" That's just what Walt would do, thought Michael.

Michael replayed the horrible night and day following the kidnapping over and over in his mind. He was forming a genuine bond with his son, and his happiest moment came when Walt told him that Susan was wrong for completing shutting him out of Walt's life. Then several hours later began the absolute worst day of his life by several orders of magnitude. The pure agony of helplessly watching Walt being spirited away, followed by the ordeal of patching up what he and Jin could of the raft, and desperately attending to Sawyer's bullet wound. Then there was the difficult journey back, fighting the waves and the low afternoon sun as they approached the island, and sailing along the west edge until they came close to the beach camp where they landed, and then that hike in the dark to that campsite.

No, something was wrong with that picture. Some trivial incident that Michael didn't pay any attention to at the time. Similar to a work of art that had the light shining from the wrong direction. Then it dawned on him. The current had taken them west. If they had to sail to the east to reach the island, how could they be fighting the afternoon sun? Michael remembered squinting while looking toward the island, but why? The sun couldn't have come from that direction – it must have been a reflection. But how? There shouldn't have been any reflecting material on that mountain. It would have to have been man-made, like a mirror or glass. But still, it would have been a tremendous long shot for an object like to be in exactly the right position to reflect the sun's rays – unless it had been done deliberately. But why would anyone do that?

A chill went through Michael, as he came up with an explanation. The reflection was meant to get his attention, but there was only person with that motive. It seemed unlikely, but somehow Walt may have gotten up in or on that mountain with something that could reflect sunlight. It only lasted a fraction of a second, which made sense; the Others would never give Walt a long time to do something like that. Apparently they hadn't allowed him a long time to send the message through the rock; Kate had indicated that no messages came from Walt's end after the one asking how his Dad was.

Much too anxious to sleep now, Michael reasoned more things out. That powerboat had to have docked somewhere, and all indications was that it was along the rugged northern shore of the island. His search party with Jin, Sun, Sayid, and Shannon hadn't turned up any evidence of a boat landing, so logic dictated that it must be somewhere along the north edge that they couldn't reach by foot. Now that mountain where the reflection came from was on the western edge of the north shore. That should narrow the search down significantly. Maybe it would not, but that should be the place to start. Probably there was some hidden waterway in that area. Then what? Some passages, one up the mountain, and another underground into the caves? Or perhaps an overland route up the mountain? Michael remembered the well-constructed tunnels connected to the hatch. It looked like some powerful machine made them; if that was the case, then a path up the interior of the mountain was not far-fetched.

But he had to get back on the mission at hand. Would he have to build yet another raft to search for the presumed boat entrance? A raft like the ones he had engineered would not be a suitable choice for that. It would be too large and easily spotted, and not sufficiently maneuverable. No, he needed something much smaller, like a canoe. But that might not fare well in rough waters. What did natives who lived in the general do for centuries? Of course, they made outrigger canoes for stability. The plan was forming in his mind.

After more thought, he realized that he and a few friends couldn't simply barge in. The Others obviously had guns. So did the castaways, but there were only four left now that Sawyer had dropped one in the ocean, and they had a limited supply of bullets. Why did Charlie have to use so many bullets to kill Ethan? Furthermore, Michael was no gang-banger familiar with guns. Any target practice by him would deplete their precious bullet supply. He supposed he could leave shooting to Sayid, but Michael was going on the rescue mission no matter what. There was another source of weapons of the island, though … .

In the morning Locke insisted on going outside. He was not going to lie incapacitated in the caves all day. He could wheel his wheelchair around the caves where the ground was fairly smooth, but once outside the terrain was difficult. Consequently Hurley pushed the wheelchair around for Locke. As Hurley had some experience wheeling patients around in the psychiatric ward from his past, this arrangement worked out rather well. Still, Locke was miserable over the recent turn of events.

Hurley didn't know what to say, and Locke seemed to want to just sit there and reflect with a sour look on his face. They hung around in silence for some time, when the silence was broken by Michael, who came striding purposefully up the path they had come.

"Locke, I need to speak with you."

Since Hurley didn't hear his name mentioned in that statement, he guessed that Michael wanted to talk to Locke alone, and made up an excuse to go back to the caves. When Hurley was out of earshot, Michael spoke.

"Hey, I'm really grateful for what you tried to do, and I'm sorry this happened to you."

"The island is punishing me for my sins, Michael."

"Don't talk like that, man."

"It's true, Michael. And it's you I sinned against. I drove a wedge between you and Walt, something I had absolutely no right to."

"It's not all your fault. I should have spent a lot more time with him at the beginning. He made it so difficult, but I should have made a better effort. He didn't care for me at all; all he wanted was his dog. And we have you to thank for finding him. And you let me take the credit. Actually, I was thinking, I don't like lying to my boy. I'm going to tell him you were responsible for finding Vincent when I find him."

"You're his father; it's up to you to decide what to do regarding him." Locke paused. "You want to know the truth, Michael? Ever since I've been an adult I wanted a child of my own. I worked in a toy store for years just so I would have to chance to talk with children about subjects I like. But I could never form any meaningful relationship with a woman who might be a potential mother. My life was going nowhere when I found myself a survivor of this horrible plane crash. And then I was presented with this opportunity. Here was a boy who resented his father, and I butted in, making me his friend, teaching him things I would teach my own son. That incident with Vincent was to keep you from getting too upset with me. Still I had no business doing all that stuff with Walt, especially with the knives." Another pause, and, "So the island is punishing me for my mistakes."

"Hey, we all make mistakes here. I've made more than my share. I've jumped to conclusions and rushed to judgment, and have been in too many fights. But nothing was bigger than taking Walt along on the raft. It was much too dangerous. I should have let four others of us go, including Kate. And it's not just us, I'd say everyone here has made mistakes … even Walt. This island has put us all in an impossible situation; it would be extremely difficult not to make any mistakes."

"Do you mind if I ask what mistakes you think Walt has made? You can't hold a child to the same standard as adults."

Michael hesitated, and then continued, "Look, despite our past differences we both want Walt back. Our best chance is to be honest with each other. Walt may be ten but he's certainly old enough to know right from wrong, and he was wrong to … burn the first raft. And he was wrong to stand there and let Jin take an undeserved beating afterward, though I accept responsibility for that. At the time I still thought he had gotten off very easy for trying to kill me in front of Walt, and shoving Walt aside in the process."

Locke's facial expression didn't change. This lack of a reaction was not lost on Michael.

"You knew!" Michael exclaimed. "You knew, and didn't tell me! Did he tell you?"

"Walt didn't tell me; I only deduced it was he because nobody else had a motive. He didn't deny it when I asked him about it. But before you judge me for keeping that secret, ask yourself, who would you rather have heard the truth from, Walt or me?"

Michael knew that Locke was right. "While a bit sooner would have been preferable, of course I'd rather hear the truth from Walt."

"His need to confess to you was a part of his growing up. He will be a better man for it in the future."

"Yes, you are right. On that occasion he did need some growing up. Now what about this motive? Oh right, he told me he didn't want to leave, but changed his mind just before the second raft was complete. In fact he insisted on going."

Locke sighed. "I need to tell you this. Walt warned me about opening the hatch. I touched his arm, and he suddenly went into a creepy state like some trashy sci-fi flick, and announced, 'Don't open it.' I pretended not to understand, but he repeated that command. It couldn't have been anything other than the hatch, even though I don't think he ever saw it. But I ignored the warning, and look what's happened. I've become crippled and our friend Arzt is dead. If I hadn't insisted on opening it the science teacher wouldn't have been handling the dynamite. But that's not all. I hate to think about it, but after that rockslide incident I feel that the Others are doing something horrible to Walt. The only saving grace is that it's clear they want him alive."

"You think they're punishing him for communicating with you? I have to admit I think you're right. Walt is very tough, he's been through far more than enough for one lifetime, and he can handle it. You told me yourself there's something special about him." Michael couldn't be sure of that, but what else could he say?

Michael continued, "But I came to see you for a reason. I think the powerboat made landfall on the north side of the island, and I'm going after Walt there. The mines will be too well guarded after … this incident. But we need weapons, and we don't have a lot of guns and ammunition. Therefore – I want you to teach me how to throw knives."


	22. Consequences of Disobedience

Author's notes: Thanks Zombie Kitty, but please don't feel any obligation to review. I anticipate churning out about a chapter a week whether I get reviews or not. A few dozen hits every time a new chapter appears is enough to keep me going.

To October Sky, I definitely got the angles of the sun's reflection and such right in the last chapter. It just is a long shot to be able to reflect the rays so accurately over a long distance.

Also, I will say I found something different for Sayid to do in the next chapter. And I couldn't help myself sticking in a Star Trek phrase near the end of this chapter.

* * *

Walt learns more consequences of his communication and resumes work in the mines.

* * *

When morning came, Alex found Walt still lying on his back tied to the overturned chair, with one foot chained to the bed, just as she had left him. She removed the manacle around his ankle, and stood there a while, until she heard him making moaning sounds, indicating he was waking up. Alex untied his arms and legs, and asked, "How are you?"

Walt rolled over to one side and stood up, then stretched and bent his arms and legs to determine what kind of shape he was in. Before answering, he remembered that he had to give the impression that his spirit was broken, but not overact in doing so. He would respond in a quiet, resigned voice. "Mostly okay, I guess, but my shoulders are still a little sore. At least I got to move them around a little last night."

"Sit down," Alex ordered.

Walt picked up the chair and sat in it immediately. That was part of his plan, to promptly comply with any order of Alex, most if not all of which would be given by the Others. In some cases a tiny bit of resisting should be okay, to be believable, but this was not such an occasion, because Walt knew what was coming. He had to be in as good as shape as possible for the upcoming workday, and he had just told Alex that his shoulders weren't in perfect working order.

As expected, Alex stood behind the seated Walt and began rubbing his shoulders. He started in pain once or twice, but then Alex adjusted, and soon was massaging the poor shoulder muscles that had been stretched in an unnatural position for so long. She continued this treatment for several minutes, but couldn't do so indefinitely on orders from the Others. But Walt told her that he felt as good as he was going to get.

"Thanks, Alex," he offered. "I wish I could do something for you."

Alex had a vague impression that Walt had been holding something back from her, but didn't want to tell her under these circumstances for fear of retribution by the Others. So she merely said, "Maybe you can tell me more about your friends on the outside some time." Her face then turned very sad. "But I have to show you something before you get to work."

They had breakfast, and proceeded to the mines. The wheelbarrow had been left outside Walt's room and was loaded with tools as it had been two days before, and he wheeled it well into the main corridor leading southward from the central cavern. However, on this occasion Alex led Walt all the way to the last tunnel on the right, where he had communicated with Locke, but with disastrous consequences. Alex showed him that the ceiling of that tunnel was now completely caved in, and informed him, "Yesterday the Others sent someone here, and he placed some dynamite through a crack at the top of the rockslide. He ignited a fuse when he heard your friends getting close. That caused the collapse you see now. We do not know their fate; apparently your settlement is too well guarded now for any of the Others to get close enough to find out exactly what happened."

The news made Walt feel terrible, as if he wasn't already feeling bad enough. Who would have been trying to dig their way through that? Most likely Locke or his father. More likely Locke, Walt thought, who probably wouldn't have wanted to put Michael at risk like that. He might have had help; that looked like a very big job. It was frustrating not knowing or having any way to find out. At least he didn't have a feeling that anyone died there, though it was almost certain that someone had been hurt, probably badly.

Alex then led Walt back to the penultimate tunnel, now on their left as they walked back toward the central chamber. "We know you have looked at this," she said, indicating the heavy metal door at the end of that tunnel. The Others have instructed me to tell you …"

"I know," interrupted Walt. "Stay away from there or I'll be totally stretched out again. Believe me, I'm not going through that again no matter what."

Alex hesitated, and then said, "Possibly, but it is more likely they would do something worse."

"Worse?" thought Walt. That sounded really bad, but was that possible? Then Walt thought back to his first day awake at this place, actually his second day here, when he had been chained up facing a wall, and was terrified the Others were going to whip his bare back. History lessons at school and various movies and television shows he had seen indicated that such whippings happened all too frequently to slaves throughout time. He acknowledged that he was definitely more fortunate than those poor souls, at least so far. Why did there have to be so many cruel people in the world?

Returning to the present, Walt answered, "You mean they'll whip me, don't you? And if it's anything else I don't want to hear about it."

"Walt really is completely intimidated by the Others," thought Alex. Now she was saddened to see the boy who was once filled with so much spirit now in such despair. Before she was concerned about not getting into trouble, but seeing him this way made her reconsider. The way he was being treated was beyond horrible, and could leave him permanently damaged. But they couldn't do anything about now. Then aloud, she replied quietly, "Yes, whipping is the most likely punishment for a second offense. As I explained before that would prevent you from working for several days, and the Others prefer not to lose that much time if at all possible. So from their point of view they let you off easy for your first transgression."

"Their point of view stinks," thought Walt, although he saw that it did make sense with respect to their twisted logic. Without really thinking he rubbed his lower back with the back of his hand, grateful that his skin was smooth and undamaged. As bad as things were, they could have been much worse. He would just have to remain focused.

"Enough of that," spoke Alex, "it is time to get to work. The Others have told me to keep a closer eye on you, though I don't think that is necessary."

Walt thought it was time for another careful response. "Just do whatever won't get us into any more trouble." He then strode to the wheelbarrow, picked up the pickaxe, and waited for Alex to go far enough away so that the humming inside his head returned, indicating the presence of that otherite so precious to the Others.

The remainder of the day proceeded like so many others, but Walt found out that there would be a change in his sleeping arrangement. When bedtime came, Walt lay on his back with his arms folded across his stomach and a sour look on his face. He felt a manacle being clamped on his right ankle, and thought that would be that. However, a couple seconds later, much to his dismay his left ankle was clamped as well. Next, Alex moved around the side of the bed and picked up Walt's left wrist, and then he resisted.

The first time he saw that bed with all those chains, Walt had a fear of being pinned down by all four limbs. He had been relieved that the Others felt only one chained extremity was enough, and had become complacent. There was that one occasion where both his hands had been chained for his forced back rub, and another where both feet had been chained for a foot rub so that he wouldn't kick Alex when his feet were tickled. He had been uneasy on those occasions, but nothing more became of those. Now he was in for it, with that helpless feeling of vulnerability, and all too similar to that diabolical punishment the Others saw fit to give him.

Still, he had to be convincing that his spirit was broken. Being too willing to be chained up might be a giveaway, so Walt concluded that resisting having his hand chained for several seconds was the right course of action. It would give him time to think, and then realize that resistance was futile. So after an appropriate pause and a melancholy gaze into Alex's face, Walt said, "Fine, just get it over with," and placed both hands on the bed to the sides and above his head.

"Please don't look at me like that," replied Alex, "I don't want to do this, but the Others say this is part of your punishment." But following the Others' orders, she snapped a manacle on Walt's left wrist, and then the last one on his right.

There was a fair amount of slack, so it wouldn't be nearly so bad as before. Walt had plenty of room to wriggle, and the most comfortable he good get was to have his hands alongside his head, with his elbows bent at right angles and his legs mostly extended. He would be able to sleep like that.

"So how long do I have to be chained up like this?"

"Until the Others feel they can trust you again."

"So that means, I have to sleep like this every night as long as I'm here?"

"We can't be sure of that. Also, actually you have your choice of sleeping on your back or your stomach."

"Oh, great. I guess I could alternate every day."

Alex was distressed over Walt's tone of voice, and offered, "Hang in there. Things will get better." As she left, she couldn't help herself from patting the captive's mass of hair. The more it grew the more fascinating she found it. She then went on to make another report to the Others reconfirming Walt's loss of spirit.

Walt was left chained up in the dark. It was difficult, but he would have to try to remember anything positive about his situation. He had been doing a good job of fooling Alex and the Others about his state of mind, and Alex now seem genuinely concerned about his welfare. He wasn't in pain any more, and had the chance to keep it that way. That would have to do for now, while his friends determined how to rescue him. He just had to be able to assist in the effort when the time came.


	23. Michael's Lessons and Sayid's Task

Author's notes: Thanks again Zombie Kitty, and as promised, I put in some Sayid and Shannon in this chapter. If you're only up to "Solitary," this story will make a lot more sense in 4-5 weeks, once you've seen "Special."

* * *

Locke teaches Michael knife throwing, and Jack makes a request of Sayid, who discovers he may have met Shannon before the flight.

* * *

Locke was surprised at Michael's request to teach him knife throwing. After some thought, Locke asked, "Are you really sure you want to do this?" 

"Look man, I've got to be prepared in any way possible. There's no telling what I may face when I meet those bastards who took Walt. And half my boy's genes came from me, so if he can do it, so should I."

"All right, just be sure you know what you're getting into. My case with the knives is in a corner of my room in the caves. Hurley can help you find it."

"Thanks man, you're doing me and Walt a big favor. Will you be all right out here?" Michael wasn't sure he should leave the wheelchair-bound man alone, even if it would be for just a few minutes.

"I'll be fine, just go and do what you have to." Locke reasoned that Michael meant well, but still disliked being treated like a helpless invalid.

When Michael returned to the caves he was met by a gloomy looking Jack. Apparently Sawyer was not recovering as quickly as Jack anticipated. Michael asked if there was something he could do, but Jack said there wasn't, and continued to mutter to himself. Michael found Hurley, who showed him Locke's knife case, and Michael headed back up the trail to where Locke was.

Back at the caves, Jack was griping that he couldn't do his job as well as he should due to the lack of equipment on the island. If only he could get a close look at Sawyer's blood, he could probably make an accurate diagnosis and have a chance at an effective treatment. The piece of equipment he really needed the most was …

"Where's Sayid?" Jack asked suddenly. He learned that Sayid was most likely at the beach campsite, rebuilding the settlement there. Sayid was not giving up on the idea that one of their best chances at rescue lay in the continuous burning of a signal fire, and enough people would have to be around in order to keep it going. Heavy monsoon rains could return again at any time, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity.

Once Jack located Sayid, he strode up to him and asked, "Sayid, can you build us a microscope?"

This was not a request Sayid expected, but after a moment's thought it made sense that this was something the doctor would like very much. "You mean, from whatever materials we can find here, from scratch?"

"Sure, someone must have done it the first time. You're bright; you can figure it out. Isn't glass made of sand? The eyeglasses we collected aren't suitable as magnifying lenses."

"Well, yes, you can make glass by melting sand, but it might not be especially pure or smooth. Then you would have to grind the lenses, and connect them to a device where you could adjust the distance between the lenses and the sample. There will be a lot of trial and error involved. I suppose you'd like a glass slide also?"

"Sounds like you have it all figured out. This is rather urgent, so I'd greatly appreciate it if you got started on it right away."

Sayid thought for a moment. The challenge was intriguing, and he liked showing off what he could do, but would not make a big deal out of it. Of course the person for whom Jack would most likely want the microscope was Sawyer. That was fine with Sayid. The two of them certainly hadn't gotten along well, especially after that torture incident regarding Shannon's inhalers. But Sayid considered it part of his penance to do right by Sawyer, such as when Sayid made those funky-looking eyeglasses for him. So Sayid quickly agreed, and Jack returned to the caves.

There was certainly an ample supply of sand on the beach. Sayid collected some, and thought about how best to melt it, putting it on a dish over the fire? While he was pondering how best to accomplish these tasks, Shannon came over, after having taken Vincent for a walk.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Believe it or not, I am trying to make a microscope for the good doctor."

"Like what they have in biology class? You can do that?"

"It won't be as good as one you would find in a school or a hospital, but I might be able to make one that will work well enough."

"That's amazing. Why are you so smart?"

"That's hard to answer. I guess I was just always a good student."

Shannon draped her arms around Sayid's shoulders and said, "You're wonderful, to be able to do all these great things for everybody. You're more than I deserve."

"Don't talk like that about yourself. You just probably haven't been meeting the right men."

"No really, I have been awful in the past. Why, once I turned in an Arab-looking guy who left his bag with me in an airport for no good reason. I was mad at Boone, and just wanted to show him that I could be mean."

"Now that's a coincidence. I left a bag with some spaced-out blonde in an airport once, and within minutes I'm being interrogated by the CIA."

They looked at each other. This couldn't be possible, could it?

"Any chance it was the Sydney airport?" asked Sayid. "Right before our flight?"

Shannon had to think. "Let's see, Boone was there, so yes it had to be … ".

They both started to laugh. And then,

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry," declared Shannon. "What happened to you?"

"Don't be sorry, it was entirely my fault. I knew the CIA had been watching me, and never should have left my bag with a stranger, especially in these days of terrorist threats. I should have taken it into the washroom with me. The truth is, I was distracted over the death of a close friend, and wasn't thinking clearly. To say that bag got searched is an understatement. They turned it inside out and examined every piece of my luggage, but there was nothing improper in there. Drug- and bomb-sniffing dogs were even called in to examine it. It came close to making me miss the flight, but those officials seemed determined to get me out of the country."

"You really are wonderful," Shannon repeated, hugging Sayid, and then letting him get back to his task.

Back at the caves, Jack sought out Sun, and told her about the microscope idea. "I'll also need some kind of stain, to make the cell samples more visible. Do you know of any plants on the island that might work?"

Sun thought for a little while, and replied, "Perhaps a plant that emits a colored fluid when you crush its leaves or stems?"

"Yes, something like that sounds right."

"There are many different plants on this island. I will collect them and bring the most promising samples to you."

Sun went to her garden, and began testing various plants. Farther away, Locke was instructing Michael on the fine art of knife throwing.

"First find a knife that feels good in your hand," Locke said to Michael.

"Do I hold the handle or the tip?"

"Most experienced knife throwers hold the tip, but what is more important is how the knife feels to you."

Michael held several of the knives in his hand, and eventually selected one.

"Now pick out a target," instructed Locke. "Like that knot on that tree. Visualize the trajectory of the knife."

Michael drew back his arm, and let the knife fly. It missed the tree, and was far too low.

"Man, that was pathetic!" commented Michael on his effort.

"Take it easy, this takes lots of practice. Now try it again. Visualize the flight in your mind's eye."

The second effort was better, hitting the tree, but this time two feet high and nearly a foot to the right.

Michael was still seething, but Locke merely said, "Concentrate. Take your time."

The third toss was perhaps three inches low and to the left. Michael started feeling much better. The knife flew through the air many more times, until Michael was consistently getting within two inches of the target, though never hitting it dead center.

Locke congratulated Michael. "You are reasonably competent now, but really need more practice, and with different knives. You might wish to take more than one with you. Help yourself to whatever you need. But you still need to come back tomorrow to see if what you have learned has stuck. I know you want to set off on this rescue mission quickly, but it won't do much good if you are not fully prepared."

Michael was indeed impatient. He wanted to build his canoe, in addition to this knife throwing stuff. But there was something else he wanted to do. As the sun was setting, he wheeled Locke back to the caves, where Sayid was showing off to Jack two crude glass lenses he had made that day. When they were done talking, Michael pulled Sayid aside, and asked him, "Man, what can you teach me about hand-to-hand combat?"


	24. Alex Discovers a Secret

Alex gets the shock of her life.

* * *

Walt woke up early in the morning in pitch blackness. He tried to move, but yes, this was real; he truly was chained hand and foot to that bed. He planned to continue convincing the Others and Alex that he had lost the will to fight, but being unable to do anything for several hours at a time could drive him crazy and cause him to mess up. He extended his arms, and swung them over his head as far as the chains would allow. This wasn't very satisfying; he could not bring his hands close enough to touch each other, and moving his arms wide apart was more uncomfortable, and too reminiscent of the horrible spread-eagled experience. At least no water or anything else was dripping on him now.

But there was something else he could do. He inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest as much as possible. The effect was maximized with his upper arms extended straight out from his body and his elbows bent at right angles. He proceeded to hold his breath for many seconds. In the course of doing so, he pulled on the chains, causing his biceps to flex, while clenching his fists, gritting his teeth, and glaring upward into the darkness. The act gave him a good feeling, like releasing some pent-up emotions. He could act like the little tough guy when no one could see him. It may not have been much, but as he slowly exhaled, he determined that this was enough of a release to get him through the day.

Walt fell back asleep, and a couple hours later he woke up when Alex entered the room. She unlocked the manacles and asked,

"How did you sleep?"

"Not the best, but okay. Does it matter? " Walt responded in a tired voice.

Alex had to admit, "I guess it doesn't now. The Others were quite clear on your sleeping arrangements for the time being. But I'm glad you were able to get some sleep."

They settled into what had been their usual daily routine for most of the past month. However, Walt was exceptionally quiet, barely acknowledging Alex's existence and not saying anything at meals. Alex put up with it for a couple days, attributing it to Walt's recent unpleasant experiences, but the silence became too much for her.

"Are you feeling well enough to talk now? You've been awfully quiet the past few days. For some time I've had this feeling that there was something you wanted to tell me."

"I have come to the conclusion that it's best to keep my thoughts to myself. That way we won't get into any more trouble."

"You think I'll repeat whatever you say to the Others. I understand that, and that used to be the case, but things are different now. After seeing what they've done to you, I can avoid telling them things I don't want them to now. You've inspired me to fight back, but I'm well aware we still have to be very careful. We have to work together in this."

It was encouraging to hear Alex talk that way, but Walt was still going to play it safe. "Maybe later, when I feel I'm up to talking more," was his ambivalent reply. Now he was thinking that this would be a good time to inform Alex about Danielle's existence on the island. But he would have to do it in a way where Alex was convinced he was telling the truth. If she thought he was lying it would be more bad news for him. Perhaps there was some way for her to think she was forcing the truth from him.

Alex could understand Walt's reluctance, so she let the matter drop. It occurred to her that she might be able to force him to talk while he was chained to his bed, say by tickling him, but that would be just plain wrong. That would put her on a level with the Others, and he would never trust her after that.

As luck would have it, a few days later an opportunity came. While Walt was hacking away high on a wall with the pickaxe, a large chunk of rock dislodged and almost hit him on the head. He twisted violently to get out of the way, but in the process wrenched his back. The injury wasn't obvious at first, probably due to his youth, but became evident after dinner, when he had sat still for the better part of an hour. He was in obvious pain when he stood up, and had to tell Alex what happened.

"I'm afraid it will take more than a back rub to fix that," said Alex. "I will get something for your back while you get ready for bed." Alex departed, and went to the laboratory. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She selected a bottle of a pain-killing cortisone solution, and then slyly took a bottle of sodium pentathol, an old truth serum but still effective when the subject was not aware of its presence. She mixed the two solutions in a test tube, and filled a large syringe with the mixture. She also brought a bottle of iodine and a cotton swab, and returned to Walt's room, where he was sitting glumly on the edge of his bed.

"You need to be on your stomach for this," informed Alex. "Can you stretch out; it will make this easier."

Having to keep up his act, Walt obediently rolled over and extended his arms and legs. Once his wrists and ankles were clamped, he scooted up as far as he could. Having his arms bent as much as possible, at just about right angles, was his most comfortable position on his stomach as well as his back. Then he turned his head to one side, again to be as comfortable, or perhaps more accurately the least uncomfortable, as possible.

Alex moved her hand over Walt's back, asking him where it hurt the most. When he indicated the spot, near the middle of his back and a little to one side, she took the cotton swab and applied a generous amount of iodine over it. Then she told Walt, "This will hurt some, but it won't be nearly as bad as those other injections." Having given the warning, she injected him with the full contents of the syringe.

Walt grimaced, but the pain was nothing compared to those injections that made him sensitive to otherite and may have included some kind of growth hormone, that the Others had devised, and it only lasted a second or two. Then Alex was rubbing his back, and suddenly not only was there no pain at all, it felt very good. This time the massage was lasting a long time. Walt was powerless to do anything about it but he didn't care. In fact, the reason for the length of this rubdown was for the truth serum to take effect. Alex went over Walt's arms and legs, figuring that the more his body was relaxed, the quicker and more reliable his answers would come. Walt was expecting to fall asleep soon when he heard Alex asking,

"Now you have something important to tell me. What is it?"

Walt was experiencing some strange feeling. He had to answer, and he had to tell the truth. Half asleep, he had a vague idea of what was going on, and still wanted to be convincing, trying to withhold the information about Danielle. So with slurred speech he came up with an unexpected truthful response:

"I …aah … I'm growing fast again. … I need … a bigger loincloth."

Alex was startled at that answer, but soon recovered. In a gentle voice, she stated, "Okay, but there is something else, more important."

"You … your …aah …" Walt trailed off.

Alex tried another approach: "I'll make you a new loincloth if you tell me."

By now the serum had taken its full effect, and Walt was compelled to tell, even without that last generous offer. "Your mother … is on the island."

This was exceptionally difficult for Alex to believe, and she wouldn't have if it weren't for the truth serum. She would have to confirm this. "The Others told me my parents died when I was a baby."

"No … The Others lied to you. Danielle … I saw her once … hair looks just like yours … face looks like yours … She said her baby was taken … by the Others … sixteen years ago."

"What about my father?"

"Sorry, … your mother's been alone … all this time." Walt was barely aware of what he was saying, under the influence of the serum and the backrub. He thought he had accomplished his task, and given the circumstances could pretend not remembering what he just told Alex. Then he fell asleep for real.

Alex was stunned. Walt had to be telling the truth. Not only under the influence of the drug, but it made sense that he wanted to keep that information to himself, for fear of reprisal from the Others. The Others certainly wouldn't want Alex to know her mother was alive, up there somewhere. Now it was she who would have to keep the secret, but she was determined to do so. The Others hadn't been questioning her so much now that they were convinced Walt's will had been broken. The tables had been turned; now Alex was anxious to get to the outside world again, but would not be getting help from Walt, who was too intimidated to try. She would have to try to get him on her side without making him think she was trying to trap him.

The next day, Walt pretended not to remember any of the questioning. When he found a new, larger loincloth in his room when he returned from work, he simply said, "Um, thanks, the ones I have are getting a little tight. Guess I'm still growing pretty fast? Does this mean the Others think I'm behaving well enough again, and I'll get another one this size tomorrow – one to wear while the other is washed and dried?"

Alex just replied, "Yes." She was convinced Walt didn't remember telling her about her mother, and that reconfirmed her impression that Walt was truthful. And perhaps he was showing a spark of life with these questions, even though he now was expressionlessly working in the mines all day and readily submitting to being chained up each night. The routine was becoming too firmly established for Alex's liking. She would have to find a way to end it, but it would take time.


	25. Battling Sawyer's Infection

Author's notes: Thanks again for the reviews. October Sky, your comment actually gave me some ideas on what Alex is going to do. The next chapter will be more from her perspective. Anon, your review is a little bit of a spoiler for Season 2, so if anyone else is not up to date you might just want to skip to the story. Thanks for saying this could describe Walt's adventures (misadventures?) while he isn't on the show. I think he has to come back some time. Of course almost nothing I wrote actually happened, except that the raft crew survived and Sawyer's wound is getting infected by the looks of things. And I can't really spoil my story now.

* * *

The islanders combine forces to combat Sawyer's infection as rescue operations proceed.

* * *

Sayid told Michael, "It takes many months of intense training to become skilled at hand-to-hand combat. Do you realize what you are asking?"

"I don't have months, man, more like days. Can't you just show me some moves?"

"It is not that simple. There are infinitely many ways an opponent can approach you, and it takes time to learn the many moves and countermoves required. I can show you 'a few moves,' but they will be effective only against unskilled or unwary opponents."

"That's better than nothing; I've got to learn what I can, and quickly."

Sayid gave Michael a short lesson, and warned Michael that if he was serious about this he needed at the minimum several weeks of practice. Michael thanked Sayid, saying he understood and that every little bit helped, and then he was off to the beach to build the canoe, with Jin providing most of the help. They would build the vessel near the water, and test it by sailing it around the coast of the island. Should the canoe prove seaworthy, they could investigate the north shore where that ominous powerboat most likely docked.

Meanwhile, there was plenty of other activity back in the caves. Sun had brought in several plants, and Jack was testing them to see how well they could produce a stain suitable for a microscope slide. After combinations of mincing and heating, he found one that worked rather well, even though neither he nor Sun could identity the plant by name.

Jack then drew a small sample, no more than a couple drops, actually, of blood from near Sawyer's shoulder wound. After fiddling with the homemade microscope that Sayid had completed, adjusting the position of the lenses and moving it around so that it caught the most light, Jack recognized a strain of bacteria. One that could be treated simply by penicillin, if one had a sufficiently large quantity. They would need more than the dwindling supply of antibiotics they had on hand. But Jack had an idea.

"Sun, have you seen any mold growing around here?"

"Mold? The climate is certainly humid enough to support its growth. Let me think … why yes, I believe I saw some not too far from my garden. I had to make sure to build it far enough away. Why … ?" But Sun immediately figured out what Jack had wanted it for. "I will collect some immediately." She went and scraped some mold off the bottom of some tree trunks and nearby shrubs, and returned. Soon Jack was boiling the mold in water, purifying it and making it suitable for a solution that could be injected with a syringe. Soon Jack was talking to his patient.

"Hang on Sawyer, I think you'll be just fine. I was afraid you had some mysterious island infection, but it looks to be related to a non-too-uncommon bacterium. We whipped up a batch of what you need. Now hold still, this will hurt a little, but not as much as being shot."

"Is that an example of your impeccable bedside manner, Doc?" Sawyer just had to comment. "You may have missed your calling; you could have been a regular stand-up comedian, instead of one of those medicine men who like to play with needles."

"Ha, ha, this will be over before you know it." Jack injected the penicillin solution before he finished the sentence. Sawyer gritted his teeth, not allowing himself to show any more pain.

Jack continued, "I plan on giving you these injections twice a day for the next week. That should be enough to stop the infection in its tracks. You should be aware that your arm will most likely have limited mobility for some time."

"Why, thank you so much for giving me something to look forward to," came the response in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really know how to brighten up the day."

When Jack was finished with Sawyer, Kate approached the doctor with an idea of her own. She still felt like she had to prove herself to the other castaways, and taking risks was not a factor.

"You know, I think we should reconsider breaking through that metal door in the tunnel connected to the hatch."

Jack's initial response was, "That's too dangerous. After what happened in the other tunnel we should just stay far away from there."

"That's just how the Others will think we will reason. Besides, it looks like Michael is planning a rescue attempt from the north shore. We stand a better chance if we come at them in more than one direction."

The logic was starting to make sense to Jack, but he was still uncomfortable with the idea.

"We can use the dynamite and don't even have to be in the hatch when the door blows if we use a long enough fuse. Then we can wait and see if there's any reaction."

Jack was giving in. "This sounds like a last resort kind of idea.'' Then he added, "You can't do this alone, Kate."

"I know. I'll find somebody."

"If you really intend on doing this, I want to be there with you." If someone had to handle dynamite, Jack wanted it to be himself. He couldn't bring himself to trust Kate after she ran away from hatch, forgetting that she was supposed to be carrying some of the dynamite sticks, but honestly didn't want to see anything bad happen to here. "But we really have to think this through more."

Kate sensed that Jack was beginning to warm to her idea, and didn't want to lose him at this point, so she agreed. "Why don't we just take a walk down there, and get away from all this commotion for a little while?"

Well, it couldn't hurt to walk over there. Jack and Kate made their to the hatch, taking along one of the guns for protection, but as they got there, they stopped short. Something didn't look right, as if some pieces of equipment used in the digging had been moved. The pair got the feeling that they weren't alone. Kate drew the gun, and after a minute, Jack called out, "Who's there?" Several seconds later, from out of the shadows behind some trees emerged a mysterious yet familiar figure.


	26. Alex Decides to Leave

Author's notes: Thanks for the review notabandgeek, and thanks to you new readers who had the perseverance to read this all the way through. The hit counter for all chapters really spiked with the addition of the last chapter. It looks like the key to getting a lot of hits is to mention Sawyer in the preview. He will be seen in future chapters.

* * *

Alex attempts to get outside and look for Danielle.

* * *

Alex took her time deciding on what course of action she should take. Now that she knew her mother was up there outside, and probably looking for her, she simply had to try to find her. The exit to the waterway where the powerboat had entered wasn't always guarded due to the Others' other important tasks, like refining the otherite and using it for whatever purpose they had in mind, probably something to do with that machine. Perhaps she could just walk out? She was too smart to realize that it might not be that simple.

She pondered the consequences of her intended actions. Mainly, what would happen to Walt? If Alex escaped at night, the Others might not notice that she was missing until noon the next day. That would be the time when they would notice that no otherite had been mined all morning, and find Walt still chained to his bed. They would interrogate him, but then what? If the boy didn't know of her plans, he wouldn't be able to tell them anything. Consequently Alex decided that she had better keep her plans secret.

One more day of the usual routine passed. The two of them barely spoke a word. At bedtime, as Alex snapped the last manacle on Walt, she reconsidered her plans. She was condemning Walt to perhaps an additional five hours in the chains, but there was no question he could handle that. He had proved himself plenty tough on several occasions. The Others would question him, but should find out he was blameless. In any event they would still need him for their mining operations, and wouldn't hurt him badly. She could return with a larger force for the rescue. But before she left, she couldn't fight off an impulse to plunge her hands into fifteen centimeters of thick bushy hair grown in fifty days of captivity. For some reason running her fingers through Walt's ever-growing Afro and scratching his head gave her a satisfied feeling inside, as if it were a kind of release. She might not ever get this chance again.

Once again Walt was left helplessly staring up in the dark. But what was disturbing was not so much being left in this position, but having become so used to it that it wasn't bothering him. In fact, recently being chained up was becoming a relief that nothing worse was happening to him for one more day. He shook his head and took some deep breaths to clear his mind. What was up with Alex? The scalp massage felt good, but what was the reason behind it? Walt guessed that Alex was frustrated by his recent lack of cooperation, and was taking it out on him in a physical, but harmless manner. Still, he wasn't ready to give up his act of having his spirit broken. He had to be absolutely sure before letting Alex in on that secret.

Unable to sleep, Walt thought about all the crazy things that had happened in his life. Why couldn't it have been simpler, without having to move all over the world so often? If things were different, his parents would have married and he might have lived in New York his whole life. He would have been able to make long-lasting friendships. Another large difference would be that his surname would have been Dawson, like Michael's, instead of his mother Susan's of Lloyd. He thought more about his mother. So often ignoring him, and spending almost all of her time with her career and his stepfather, that Brian. Never telling him about his real father. But what bothered him the most was her hiding Michael's letters to him, and throwing them away. If it weren't for his nanny, who picked them out of the trash every year, he never would have seen them. He missed his nanny; that woman was a saint. On the other hand, his mother's actions were just plain cruel. Walt was grateful for the opportunity to get to know his father first hand. How awful it must have been for him to write all those years and never get a response.

The more Walt thought, the more he realized how evil his mother had been. How could a mother have been so heartless and selfish? His father was obviously loving and caring; he had just been merely incompetent for the first few weeks of their acquaintanceship. Given the circumstances, it was not surprising how overprotective he was. In fact, it would have been surprising if he wasn't. The relationship got off to a bad start when Michael lied right at the beginning, telling Walt that Brian wanted him. Brian was such a miserable excuse for a parent that he ran off to New York within hours of Susan's death, not even having the decency to grieve with Walt. And then Brian wouldn't even be there to introduce Walt to Michael; instead, he just sent Walt off to live with a total stranger. That stuff about legal guardianship was a bunch of bull; Brian was a high-powered lawyer who could easily have retained custody if he wanted to. Walt had to admit that Michael was trying not to hurt his feelings, but it didn't work in this case. Still it was an admirable character trait that Walt could appreciate now. His real father would be trying to rescue him now. Brian would be content to stay where he was, thousands of kilometers away.

Walt's mind was more at ease after this reflection. Still, he got a small sense of satisfaction by pulling on the chains with all four limbs. The release of emotion and energy allowed him to fall asleep for the night.

This night after finishing her usual chores, Alex walked up the corridor toward the exit. One of the Others was standing guard there.

"What do you want?" he asked in a rather unfriendly tone.

Alex answered, "I wish to be doing something more useful around here. That boy has become a complete robot. Work, eat, sleep, and that's it. There really isn't any point in my being around him any more."

"You are doing a very useful job just keeping him going. You can't be of any more help."

"Couldn't I do something like help process the mineral ore? Make this whole operation go faster? By the way, wouldn't it go faster if you were helping? I assure you the boy is safely chained up for the night."

"We have decided that it's best to maintain a twenty-four hour guard here after that incident with the outside communication. Nobody comes or goes through here."

That was disappointing news to Alex, but she persevered with, "That sounds like it applies to me as well, though I have to reason to go outside now. I would just like to get this operation over with as soon as possible."

"Like I said, nobody is coming or going through here. Things are going well now, and we're going to keep everything the way it is. There's an old saying, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Now good night."

Alex turned away and went back to her room. This wasn't working out at all. A permanent guard meant she wasn't leaving any time soon. Any further effort or inquiries would arouse suspicion. It may have already, but she would just go through many more days of the same routine to remove the Others' suspicion and before trying something else.

Alex didn't sleep well that night, and awoke early. She went to Walt's room, and just watched him silently for nearly half an hour. He lay motionless except for his steady breathing, and looked too comfortable in Alex's opinion. They were both in the same situation, prisoners against their will. They should be working together, but was it the case they were each keeping secrets from the other, and prolonging their captivity? Alex would think carefully on how best to proceed.


	27. Monsoon Season

Author's notes: Thanks for the review xlostangelx. There are other Walt stories out there; you can search stories by character name using the "char" buttons near the top right corner. This story is by far the longest, though, and I have every intention of completing it.

I have decided to ignore some, shall we say, significant events going on in Lost currently for the duration of this tale.

* * *

A familiar character appears before heavy, continuous storms force the castaways into the caves and cope the best that they can.

* * *

Jack and Kate gasped as they recognized Danielle emerging from behind some trees. She was carrying a rifle, but made no attempt to raise it when she saw Kate wielding a gun. Before Jack or Kate could say anything, the French woman laid down her rifle and asked,

"What have you done here?"

Jack was hesitant to say anything, but Kate insisted that they would be better off cooperating. Kate gave a long, detailed description of they blew up the hatch, explored it, and heard a message apparently tapped out by Walt. Then the explosion that injured Locke and terminated any more attempts at communication.

"So the Others took the boy down there," thought Danielle out loud.

"Now wait a minute," demanded Jack. "When you said the Others wanted the boy, you meant Walt, didn't you? We thought you meant Claire's child."

Danielle appeared confused. "If Walt is the boy's name, then yes. There is only one boy on the island?"

"But Claire's baby is a boy, and Claire was kidnapped by Ethan. That's who we thought these Others were after."

"I did not mean to mislead you. I did not know the gender of the baby, so I did not realize you would misunderstand." After a few moments of silence, Danielle announced, "The Others took my baby sixteen years ago. Now they took your boy Walt to this underground place. It is possible they took my Alex there, too."

Jack and Kate were skeptical, but Danielle quickly added, "I will help you. Together we shall find both missing children. What do you need?"

The source of the help offer was dubious, but the offer itself was most welcome. "We need some explosives to blow down a heavy door down there," responded Kate. "And we could use more weapons."

"I have grenades, and can get more firearms," replied Danielle. "I also have plastic explosives, which are much safer than dynamite. We can bring the items here tomorrow; there is not enough daylight today." Danielle looked up at the sky, and did not like what she saw. "If we do not accomplish this by tomorrow, we may have to wait a long time. Monsoon season is upon us."

"All right then," said Kate, taking charge as Jack was still hesitant. We'll meet here tomorrow and go get your supplies, or the first day that it isn't pouring. Jack and Kate returned to the caves, as Danielle went off to her own secret location.

Back on the beach, Michael and Jin were completing the outrigger canoe. They would get help in carrying it to the shore the next day and take it for a test run. They had carved out most of the trunk of a large tree, and chopped away at many branches, making seats and oars out of them, as well as the outrigger portion and connecting pieces of wood. They returned to the caves shortly before sunset in improved spirits. Many castaways expected tomorrow to be a big day.

The next day turned out to be notable, but not in the way the plane crash survivors had hoped. It rained. Hard. All day long. Lightning struck and thunder was heard at regular intervals. The wind was extremely strong, with occasional ferocious gusts. It would have been suicide to venture outside on a day like this. But the next day wasn't any better, nor the next. A full-blown monsoon had struck, and it seemed to have stalled very near the island. Arzt's prediction had come to pass, and the crew was stuck in the caves for the long haul.

For the next month, there were only occasional breaks in the weather, which the islanders used to quickly restore their food supply and clean up the area around the caves. Numerous trees and branches had fallen. Even then those who ventured outside usually wound up soaked. In the face of such adversity the better side of the castaways came through for the most part; a widespread spirit of cooperation toward the goal of continued survival.

Michael, though, became extremely exasperated. There was never a window of opportunity nearly large enough to test his canoe, and there was every chance of it being damaged where it had been secured on the beach. He spent a good deal of his time learning fighting techniques from Sayid. This was Michael's way of making the best of a bad situation. The backgammon set got a good deal of use, mainly from Locke and Hurley. They were both good players, and evenly matched. They noted that neither of them had any outrageous streaks of luck, but thought it best to keep that observation quiet. Of course the person who had been luckiest with that backgammon set had run into extremely bad luck on the ocean and on the far end of the island.

Meanwhile, the penicillin injections had been helping Sawyer. The infection was going away, but his left arm was still pretty useless. He was able to keep from going crazy by reading to Aaron. Sawyer's voice had the most unusual calming effect on Claire's baby. Claire was simultaneously annoyed that she wasn't able to quite her child consistently, and grateful that Sawyer was around to provide this much needed service. On the other hand, this annoyed Charlie no end. He regarded himself as the child's protector, and he deserved the title after having helped retrieve Aaron from Danielle. But nothing he did or said ever seemed to help keep the baby happy. The frustration was getting unbearable. He did have a way of alleviating unpleasant feelings, but he didn't want it to come to that. He eyed the single Virgin Mary statue he had taken from the drug smugglers' plane. Charlie was very well aware of what would be revealed inside it in case it was broken, a single packet of heroin, and that there was a more than adequate supply a few hours away. But he could never get away with such a trek in the constant downpour. He must never let Claire know about his former habit, but would keeping that secret drive him insane?


	28. A Question of Trust

Author's notes: I've been telling the story like the show in Season 2 has been done sometimes, where the same day is shown in two consecutive episodes, but involving different characters. So this chapter describes what Alex and Walt have been doing during the monsoon month in which everyone else was shown in the previous chapter. I won't keep this up, however. A month may have been long, but Locke and Sawyer need some time to heal.

* * *

During monsoon season in the mines, Alex tries to win Walt's trust back

* * *

After Alex had been watching Walt sleep for half an hour, she backed out of his room when he began showing signs of waking. Alex had lost her nerve, being frightened that her mild actions and attempt to leave the underground network had raised too much suspicion by the Others. Consequently she would keep up the daily routine as if nothing unusual had happened. She waited outside Walt's room for a few minutes, and then pretended to enter his room for the first time that morning. As she had done dozens of times by now, she unlocked the manacles around Walt's wrists and ankles, and let him wash up while she returned with a breakfast tray. 

Alex didn't feel like speaking, lest she give something away that might find its way back to the Others. Coupled with the sudden scalp massage from the previous evening, Walt sensed that something was wrong beyond the usual situation, but judged not to aggravate the situation. Consequently the pair ate in silence, and the regular routine was quickly re-established. Walt methodically mined the side corridors now in order, doing roughly one and a half per day. Previously he had been going up and down the central corridor, choosing the tunnels for which the tingling sensation in his head had been the strongest. Now that the largest lodes had been discovered, the Others had suggested, through Alex, the systematic search so as to be as sure as possible of collecting all the ore that was attainable. Walt had no intention of finding out what the consequences of disagreeing with that suggestion were.

A week of this activity passed before Alex grew restless of the silence, and felt sure enough that the Others weren't suspecting her of an escape attempt. She would wait for an innocuous opportunity to start a conversation. The occasion arose at the end of a workday when Walt stepped into the stream at the end of the short corridor of the tunnel that led west from the central chamber. For nearly two months this tiny river at the bottom of the rocky streambed had been no more than two decimeters deep, but on this occasion the water came to the bottom of Walt's knees. Alex saw the surprised look on Walt's face, and offered the explanation,

"Monsoon season must have started several days ago. Every year during this time the water level in that stream rises significantly. Other than that there is hardly any indication down here what the outside weather is like."

Walt felt it was appropriate to answer. "Oh. This guy Arzt said monsoon season was coming soon after we left on the raft, and I ended up here, but his prediction looks like it was early. So how long does monsoon season last?"

"The heavy rains typically last for one month. We have perhaps three weeks to go."

Alex was pleased that they were talking again. But she waited one more day before telling Walt the big story. She was about to tell at bedtime, but changed her mind, and locked Walt up hand and foot again. She started to leave, but changed her mind again, and announced, "Walt, I have to talk with you. About eight days ago, I tried to leave this place, but the Others have the exit guarded all the time now."

Walt was surprised at that statement, but pulled himself together. He figured he still had to be careful what he said. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because we have to get out of here, both of us. You need to see your father, and I … need to find my mother."

"What do you know about your mother?"

"Just what you told me about ten days ago. You had strained your back, and I was rubbing it, and you started talking about her. You were half-asleep, and may not remember, but I'm sure you were telling the truth. But why didn't you tell me sooner? Can't you trust me?"

So this part of Walt's plan had worked. She was convinced he told her the truth about Danielle. But that wasn't the same as complete trust in each other. "What happened about trusting you when you saw me tap out that message to my friends? Remember this?" Walt thrust his arms and legs out as far as they would go, the same position in which he had endured that water torture.

"Please don't do that, I couldn't do anything about that. The Others were bound to find out because you didn't get enough otherite that day, at least according to them. Still, I can see why you are reluctant to trust me now. We have to be honest with each other now, for both our sakes."

Walt was believing more and more that Alex was being honest now, and pulled back his arms as far as the chains would allow, with his elbows bent at the familiar right angles. "Okay, then answer this, why did you mess with my hair that other night?"

Alex was obligated to tell the truth if she was going to win Walt's confidence. "There's something about your hair I find irresistible. I've never seen anything like it. It feels good to run my fingers through it, and I thought that it might be my last opportunity to do so. That was the night I tried to leave."

"That … sounds very honest of you. You like my hair that much? Was there anything else you wanted to do like that?"

"Yes, there have been many times when you just lay there like a dead flounder, while you used to have so much energy. I found it very frustrating, and wanted to shake you up, reanimate you, by doing something like this." With that, Alex unleashed a sizable amount of pent-up emotion by holding her hands parallel and near to each other, and then executed a rather hard rapid chopping motion, going up and down Walt's chest and stomach, as she had done to his back several times before. It just so happened that today Walt was lying face up. Walt was taken by surprise, and his immediate reaction was to tense his pectoral and abdominal muscles, but then realized it was better to relax.

When Alex realized what she was doing, she stopped and apologized, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I just get so frustrated that …"

"That's okay," interrupted Walt. "It actually felt pretty good."

"Oh, it did?" Alex was a bit surprised. "Okay, then. I guess what I really want to ask is, 'What can I do to make you completely trust me?' Or do you still think the Others are putting me up to all this? I could undo three of your chains now, for example."

Walt thought some before answering. "I don't really know. After that message I sent the Others may never trust me again, and … it's hard to know for sure. I'm still careful what I say, because there's this lingering doubt. And I've realized it doesn't make any different if there's one or four chains on me; I'm not getting out either way. And if the Others want all four and find out there's less, that's going to be bad for both of us. So it would have to be something else. It's probably best just to keep everything the way it is." Walt yawned as he was quite tired by now.

Alex realized this conversation was ending for the day. "Let's think about it some more." As a final indication that she had changed, and was no longer only an informant for the Others, she playfully patted Walt's defenseless chest and stomach before leaving.

The next three weeks went by without incident. Alex and Walt were realizing that escape was not presently possible. They were outnumbered, and outgunned if they thought of using the mining tools as weapons. Fear of repercussion still remained. They talked more, but their conversations didn't amount to much. Alex gave more frequent massages in continued attempts to win Walt over. Meanwhile, the soles of Walt's feet became quite hardened, his fingernails and toenails continued to grow at a rate at which he had to clip them daily, he kept growing at an extremely fast rate, and his Afro surpassed the two-decimeter mark in thickness, much to Alex's delight. The water level in the stream for washing off grew on a daily basis, until it was chest-deep on Walt. The next day the level was constant, which indicated that the heavy rains had stopped. Of all the forty-two side tunnels, twenty-one on each side, off the main corridor leading southward from the central cave chamber, that Walt was allowed to mine, he had completed excavating all but the last one, which was the corridor next to the one with the heavy metal door.


	29. Island Monster

Kate's determined rescue attempt leads to an encounter with the monster and grave consequences for Walt.

* * *

When the monsoons finally ended, there was a flurry of activity around the caves. Everyone was overly anxious to get back outside and do anything to get rid of the claustrophobic feeling that had become pervasive. Sawyer had recovered enough to be up and about almost like normal, though he still had rather limited use of his left arm. The infection had been eradicated thanks to the penicillin concoction and the enforced rest. Locke's legs had mended to the point where he could get around on crutches that he made himself. Needing assistance from Hurley just one last time, Locke was wheeled into the woods far enough for him to select some suitable branches, and then rest was left to his fine woodworking ability. Making crutches was simple compared to making Claire's cradle.

Meanwhile, Michael had immediately sped to his canoe, soon followed by Jin and Sun, but was profoundly disappointed to find it damaged by fallen trees. It wasn't the greatest of shocks, but a bitter disappointment nevertheless. The Korean couple tried to console the anguished father, but the gesture seemed irrelevant. They all knew that they had to repair the vessel as quickly as possible, and set to work removing the fallen trees. They assessed the damage and determined how to proceed. More logs would have to be tied into place to stabilize those that were already there, and some parts would probably have to be replaced.

When things were settled down and under control, Kate and Jack made a surreptitious visit to the hatch. As they somewhat expected, Danielle was there waiting for them. She had brought along a pair of rifles, half a dozen grenades, and a kilogram of plastic explosives. The thought that she had some chance of finding her long lost daughter had changed her, and she was now very cooperative, but still would not let her guard down for a second. The three of them put the rope ladder in place, and descended into the hatch. The hatch itself was not noticeably affected by the monsoons. They made their way down the main corridor, looked at the rockslide that had nearly claimed the life of Locke, and turned left, going to that solid metal door. There was still a muffled mechanical noise coming from somewhere behind it.

Jack still wasn't sure this was the best way to proceed, but the women were determined. There was no hint that the Others had ever been in this area. Danielle rigged the plastic explosives along the edges of the door, inserted a wire for a fuse, told Jack and Kate to go back to the intersection with the main hatch corridor, and lit the end of the fuse. She quickly strode back to where Jack and Kate were, and they all stood behind the corner, waiting. Within half a minute there was a loud boom. The trio cautiously returned to the door, and found it swinging limply from one side. It still took some effort to push that door open wide enough to permit passage, but they succeeded without too much trouble.

Inside the room was a large amount of mysterious machinery, much of it resembling mainframe computers. Myriad rows of blinking lights adorned the machines, but their meanings were completely undecipherable to the small group. They did find one more door, at the opposite end of the room. Louder noises came from behind that one. Still determined to prove herself worthy in the eyes of her island companions, Kate strode to that door, and turned an ordinary handle.

"Careful, Kate," cautioned Jack. "We should try opening that from farther away, in case there's something nasty right behind there."

But Kate was too headstrong to listen. She pulled open the door, and gasped at what she saw. A large robot-looking device occupied the center of the room. It sported numerous knobs and lights, -- and tentacles. At the top of the mechanical creature was a round part, made up to look like a head with a pair of visual sensors. At the bottom of the device, a set of sharp teeth gnashed up and down, as if it were an animal that would chew up anything that got too close or in its way.

The head, if that's what it was, turned toward the intruder, and immediately directed a tentacle in that direction. Kate turned around and ran back from the door, but the tentacle grabbed her around the ankle, causing her to trip. She fell forward, and felt herself being pulled backward by the automatic guard. Danielle reacted more quickly than Jack, and leaped toward Kate, grabbing one of her hands. But the robotic sentry easily pulled both women toward it. Kate had been pulled mostly through the door, when in a last-ditch effort grabbed the bottom of the doorframe with her free hand. This caused the sliding along the floor to stop, but she wouldn't be able to hold on for long.

"Throw the grenade, Jack!" she screamed.

Jack, who had been mesmerized by the spectacle, belatedly sprang into action. He pulled the pin off one grenade, and hurled it into the center of the room. But in his haste he overshot the target, sending the grenade to the far corner. He quickly got another grenade, and this time took better aim, tossing the explosive right at the base of the mechanical monster. He then rushed forward and grabbed Kate's arm, and held his breath.

The two grenades went off almost simultaneously. The tentacle around Kate's ankle released its grip, and Jack and Danielle pulled Kate out of the robot room amid a shower of flaming debris, some of which hit Kate. Then Jack and Danielle helped Kate back through the first room they had passed through, and slammed the heavy metal door back shut. The three of them were quite shaken by the experience, and were out of breath. Very disappointed in the outcome of this rescue attempt, there was nothing left to do but return to caves and take care of Kate's injuries. They include some fairly serious burns to go along with several minor cuts and bruises, though none of that was life threatening. However, that would prove not to be the case for the subject of the rescue attempt. The trio of would-be rescuers didn't have the slightest clue as to how their actions had affected Walt.

At the moment of the explosion, Walt was at the end of the twenty-first corridor to the right, or west, side of the main southern corridor. As he heard the tremendous boom, a large section of the mine wall gave way. The explosion had caused the banks of the underground stream to break apart and burst through the end of that tunnel, and torrents of dirt, water, and mud descended upon the corridor. Part of the ceiling also gave way, showering the corridor with more water and damp soil. Walt started to run toward Alex, who was at the intersection of this corridor with the main one, but in seconds the debris was too thick and deep to move through. With his hands over his head, the frightened Walt felt the soft mud rising up against his legs. In an effort to avoid suffocation for as long as possible, he stood straight up, shielding his head with his hands. As the muck rose over his stomach he took a gigantic breath while he could, filling his lungs to the last cubic millimeter. The mud continued inexorably to rise, and Walt swung his elbows in front of his face to create an air pocket. The terrified boy was helpless to prevent the avalanche of wet soil from covering his head and arms. Then he could feel the landslide stop, right after the mud covered his hands, burying him completely.


	30. Playing in the Mud

Author's notes: Thanks for the review xlostangelx, and I hope you can update your stories soon. It's taking longer between updates because I'm finding it harder to maintain the level of quality, and I don't think I can keep this up for much longer. But I am committed to seeing this through to the finish (at least if I'm not in a plane crash over the holidays. If this isn't updated in a couple weeks, that's probably what happened to me.

* * *

Walt struggles to free himself from the mud, and gets an unexpected reaction from Alex.

* * *

Holding his breath, Walt extended his hands upwards, pushing the mud away and creating a small hole over his head. He looked up, but saw nothing but darkness. He then moved his arms around, and rotated his head back and forth, creating some breathing space. He pushed away the mud he could around his head, leaving it at the bottom of a little hole. Next, he scooped the mud from around his ears, flinging it as far as he could from his position. 

"Walt? Are you there? Are you okay?" A worried Alex had been repeating her questions several times, but only now did her companion hear her.

Walt finally remembered that he could breathe now. "Uh, I'm here, and okay so far, I guess, but am kind of stuck here for the moment. How are you?"

"I sprained my ankle, and can't walk, but I'll be okay. What can I do?"

Walt didn't want to put Alex at risk unnecessarily, and didn't want to be left alone. It might take hours for her to get help, and even then that would be from the Others. There was the possibility of a further collapse in that time. Consequently he replied, "Just keep talking so I know which direction to go." Walt then rocked his body back and forth, side to side, and around and around, creating more space around him while the mud was still wet enough to do so. The sloping walls around him caved in on occasion, and then he would scoop up handfuls or armfuls of mud and flung them in the direction away from Alex's voice. In fifteen minutes Walt was standing chest-deep in a funnel shaped hole, and in another quarter hour he was waist-deep in a larger similarly shaped hole. During this time he and Alex exchanged updates on their conditions. Alex's ankle throbbed quite a bit all the while.

At this point Walt tried to climb out, but his legs were still trapped to such a degree that his hands just clawed down the sides of the hole as he tried to pull himself up. With a significant effort he was able to get up on his tiptoes, temporarily gaining several centimeters, but still lacked the traction to make any more progress. Not being able to stand on tiptoe indefinitely, he was forced to settle back down on his heels in frustration. With nothing else to do, he rocked his hips back and forth, side to side, and around and around, slowly creating space around his ensnared legs. The going was slower as the mud was thicker nearer the floor, but Walt's perseverance didn't wane. His efforts were rewarded when in another half hour he was able to lift one foot off the floor, and then the other.

Walt was still in a hole with pretty steep sides, but now he had some room to maneuver. He reached as high as he could, digging his hands into the muck near the top of the surface, and then raised his left foot as high as possible, bracing it against the wall behind him. Next, with a bit of a jump he brought his right foot up above the left one, bracing it against the wall. The left foot sank in almost sideways to the ankle. Steeling himself, Walt pulled that foot out and lunged forward. This caused his right foot to sink in laterally against the wall, but he had gained enough elevation to stretch his arms forward along the top of the surface, with his chin resting at the edge of the hole. Digging in with his hands, Walt twisted his right foot enough so that the mud released its grip on it. Walt started to slide back down the hole, but with frantic swimming motions and occasionally planting his feet against the back side of the hole, he was able to stay in place, pushing mud in the hole behind him. In a couple of minutes he was not only staying in place, he was making steady progress along the surface since he had pushed enough mud aside. And then he was out, lying on his stomach on top. He excitedly shouted, "Alex, I'm out!"

On the surface, a dim light was visible in the direction of Alex's voice. The light bulbs in the main tunnel were still working. Walt crawled along the surface, keeping his weight distributed so that he wouldn't sink in much. About twenty meters along the surface firmed up some, and he made quicker progress. Looking up, he could see that the ceiling, which he could almost reach at this point, was intact. After another ten meters he tried standing, and while carefully testing each step, was moving right along. With ten meters to go Alex came into view over the edge of the mudslide. Overjoyed at seeing her, Walt rushed toward the end. In his exuberance and relief he forgot all about treading carefully, and his next two steps landed far too heavily, sending him plunging up to his armpits in the mud.

"Oh, no, not again!" thought Walt, who was not at all expecting the mud to be so soft this near the edge, when he was shocked by a totally unexpected sound.

Alex was laughing. He wasn't aware that she could laugh.

"Ha, ha, I'm sorry, but you looked so funny sinking like that – hee, hee – the expression on your face – sorry …".

Initially Walt stood there stunned, but Alex's laughter was contagious. Forgetting about the seriousness of his recent situation, he started laughing just as hard. Then on a whim, he placed his hands on top of the mud and pushed down, as if trying to push himself up and out, but of course that effort just sent his arms down along his sides, leaving just his shoulders and head, accompanied by a large spherical mass of hair, protruding above the surface. He then made an exaggerated show of trying to raise his arms again, shrugging his shoulders, but failing to more than temporarily raise them, acting like he was good and helplessly stuck in the muck. A sullen expression broke out on his face, as if he were devastated by the turn of events. After a second of silence, they both roared harder. Alex laughed so hard she fell over on her side. It was so funny she forgot the pain in her ankle. Both of them were in a state of delirium.

In a couple minutes, Alex crawled up the muddy slope on her hands and knees. "Here let me help you." Her help consisted of scooping up the nearby mud, and plopping it down on Walt's shoulders until they were completely covered. "How's that?"

Walt laughed. "Can't you do better than that?"

"Hah!" In another minute more mud was packed all around Walt's neck. It all felt wonderful. Then Alex remarked, "Aw, look, your hair got all messed up. Let me fix that for you." Over the course of the next several minutes Alex ran her fingers more than two decimeters of bushy hair, removing all the bits and pieces of earth she could and fluffing it up. Satisfied with her effort, she crawled back down the slope. "There, you look much better now."

"Thank you."

For the next several minutes their positions remained unchanged. For the first time in a long time Walt couldn't help himself from grinning. He wouldn't be able to stay like that indefinitely, however, so he eventually asked, "So what happens now?"

"We just tell the Others the truth. There was an explosion, you got buried and stuck in the mud, and it took several hours to get you free."

"It hasn't quite been several hours yet."

"Well, if it does take that long, you get the rest of the day off."

Walt laughed again at Alex's logic. He went along with the gag, turning and twisting his head in another fake attempt to free himself. He concluded, "I guess you're right. I'm stuck here, and you can't help me till your ankle gets better. Looks like I'm in for it for hours. He tried not to smile, but failed miserably. But he succeeded in standing still for another hour. It felt wonderful. Another hour passed, and another, when Walt's stomach started growling. He sighed, and announced, "I guess it's about time to leave and get dinner." Almost reluctantly, he twisted and rocked for real, creating enough space to free his arms.

While Walt was struggling, Alex climbed up the side of the mound again and offered her hands. It still was quite an effort, and took on the characteristics of a bizarre game, but the two contestants thoroughly enjoyed the experience. It took about twenty minutes to free Walt this time. Then they tumbled down the side of the mound for the last time. With Walt finally standing on firm ground, Alex, with an air of mock indignation, made the astute observation,

"Oh, look, you got your clothes all filthy."

Walt laughed again. Somehow getting his loincloth, just referred to as "his clothes," dirty, didn't seem particularly important. But he could play along.

"Sorry about that. If it can't be cleaned completely, will you make me a new one if I help you back?"

While Alex had mostly forgotten about her painful ankle, she still couldn't put any weight on it. "Sounds fair," she replied, as she put her arm around Walt's shoulder, and they walked together to the stream off to the side of the main cave chamber. Walt picked out a long hammer from the tools by the wheelbarrow, that Alex could use as a crutch until the Others gave her a better one. Once at the stream, they practically fell in, taking a long time to wash all the dirt and mud off.

At the end of the day, Alex related the day's events to the Others just as she had told Walt she would, and did get a real crutch for her damaged ankle. But more importantly, Walt had complete trust in Alex. Having helped save his life earned her that much, and Walt admitted this to her at dinner. They could start planning for a rescue or escape together. However, these plans would be easier to implement only after Alex's ankle had healed. They would have to wait some more, but felt better about their situation.


	31. Charlie's Temptation

Author's notes: Again, no obligation to review, Zombie Kitty, but since you have:

Shannon and Sayid did not realize their link at the airport. That is one of several explanations I made up to address some of the many omissions from the real show.

Danielle is frequently confused and doesn't always communicate clearly. But she did not know whether Aaron was a boy or a girl. When Danielle said, "The Others wanted the boy," she thought she was unambiguously referring to Walt. She did not realize that her comment could be misunderstood like it was.

I can't realistically introduce the two tail-end kids without bringing in the rest of the tail-enders, and that would disrupt my story too much at this point. Michael and company would have seen them, or least the wreck of the tail end of the plane, on their journey around the island in Chapter 11. I have to stick with the Season 1 characters in this one. Though Alex and Walt rescuing the smaller children, or all four combining efforts somehow, could make for a good part in another story.

I do not intend anything romantic between Walt and Alex in the future, but was trying to make it more like a brother-sister relationship (but not like Boone and Shannon!)

I really wouldn't feel good using all your ideas in my fic. I encourage you to write your own Lost fic; you have the talent and imagination to do so.

October Sky, I wouldn't expect you to answer if I asked you if Kate and Jack or Sawyer will be together at the end of your epic, so I'm not answering the Danielle/Alex reunion question here. The question will be answered eventually, though.

* * *

Frustrated at his situation, the temptation of the heroin becomes too much for Charlie to bear.

* * *

Jack and Danielle helped Kate back to the caves where the latter's injuries could be treated as properly as possible on the island. The doctor had some salve for the burns, and some peroxide for the cuts. He bandaged Kate appropriately, and told her she had to rest in the caves for the rest of the day. 

Danielle appeared ill at ease in the company of the airplane crash survivors. Her efforts to assist had not gone well, and she preferred the solitude of her bunker. She stayed around long enough to say hello to Sayid and Hurley, and was about to depart when the thought occurred to her that it might be important for her to be reachable. Not wanting to make a big announcement to this effect, she drew Hurley aside, sketched a crude map, and told him, "If you need to contact me, leave a message at the indicated position. This is a large tree almost surrounded by a bend in this river. I will be near there and check that location daily, but please don't let anyone else know where I am."

Hurley replied, "Okay, I won't say anything unless it's an emergency."

Danielle thanked him, and slipped away quietly.

Down at the beach, Michael and Jin were finishing repairing the canoe, or so they thought. They took it out for a test run, and soon found that there were small cracks in the bottom, that only became visible when the canoe was in the water. It was also hard to maneuver. Disappointed, they made they way back to shore. Jin explained through Sun that the cracks could be sealed by heating a type of sap from some of the trees, which would be faster than building another canoe from scratch, but it take another day of work.

For many days while Sawyer was recovering from his shoulder wound, and particularly on those days when it was constantly raining, he would read to Aaron when Claire couldn't get him to stop crying within a few minutes. There was not a large selection of literature available on the island. This didn't matter to the infant, but Sawyer needed new material to keep from going crazy. Reading "Watership Down" once was fine, but that was enough. Luckily, one of those thick airplane magazines found in the holders in back of the seats had washed ashore, and that provided weeks' worth of bedtime stories. Sawyer wondered if anyone ever read those magazines cover to cover. Still it was something to do, and life had to get better after this.

Meanwhile, Charlie was seriously jealous of this ability of Sawyer's. Charlie wanted to act like the father of the baby, but the great majority of his attempts to quiet the infant resulted in louder and more prolonged wailing. Claire told him not to worry about; that it was her job anyway, but that didn't make Charlie feel any better. Rather, Charlie felt increasingly frustrated by the whole situation.

There was one possibility of relieving his anxiety. During one of Sawyer's reading sessions Charlie drifted off by himself to his own little corner of the cave. Concealed within a suitcase was the Virgin Mary statue containing a packet of heroin. Charlie had done an admirable job of resisting temptation for this long, but he was reaching his breaking point. He took the statue in his hands, and held it tightly. So tightly that it broke. And there he was, staring at the packet. He picked it up … .

No! He couldn't revert back to being a junkie. Claire would have nothing to do with him after that. He had to be strong. He stuffed the packet into his pocket, and as casually as he could, strode past Claire and Sawyer and a few other survivors still in the caves. Then with no one looking, he tossed the packed into a fire near the cave entrance. For a few seconds he was proud of himself. Then he regretted his action. Continuing like this just wasn't possible. He was certain he would go insane without a fix.

No one was paying any attention to him, and for once clouds were absent from the sky, so Charlie shuffled off on a path well known to him but just a few others, like Sayid and Locke. It was like his feet knew in which direction to go, functioning independently of his brain. There may have been danger lurking, but he simply didn't care. Within a couple hours he reached the dreadful scene: a small airplane in shambles on the ground next to a cliff. There was plenty of debris scattered across the ground, including a couple dozen more statues. That wouldn't be enough. Charlie stepped gingerly to a broken open door, and peeked inside. There were hundreds more of those statues, perhaps a few thousand, inside. Many were still well preserved in sturdy shipping boxes, and several more were strewn about the plane's interior.

Charlie picked up one of the broken statues, and immediately found the packet it contained. The temptation was getting unbearable; he needed the drug now. He held the packet as if to tear it, and with one last bit of resolve, hesitated. Was he that much weaker than the other survivors who had been here before? Locke and Boone had discovered this place, and regarded all that heroin as a worthless commodity. Sayid had a similar reaction when he and Charlie were in pursuit of the kidnapped Aaron. Why was Charlie so different? Were Locke, Sayid, and Boone all that much stronger men?

"Yes!" Charlie angrily shouted out to no one in particular as he ripped open the packet. Somehow the powder wasn't quite the right color; a little too dull, but that didn't matter. Charlie touched the powder, the substance immediately adhering itself to the perspiring digit. He held it up to his nose, and made a startling discovery.

The powder, having been subjected continuously to tropical temperatures for two or three years, had lost its chemical potency.

Charlie stood there dumbfounded for several seconds, and then started laughing. There was no temptation, only a bunch of worthless powder lying around. He had been so worked up over nothing. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and things would be much better from now on. In high spirits, he quickly walked back to the caves. When he arrived, Claire was watching over Aaron who was now asleep, and Sawyer was off somewhere else, actually checking up on what was left of his stash he had so carefully amassed before the fateful raft trip.

"And how is the island's most beautiful mother this fine day?"

Claire gave a little laugh, and responded, "Just fine." Then she added, "Weren't you gone for a while? What have you been doing?"

"Oh, just looking for something."

"Did you find it?"

Charlie paused for second, and replied, "I found that it wasn't important. It was nothing compared to your and Aaron's happiness and well being."


	32. Confidence Builder

Walt and Alex recover from the explosion, and think about a possible escape or rescue, while Walt turns an unpleasant situation into one where he finds he is not so easily intimidated by the Others.

* * *

The morning after the explosion, Alex came into Walt's room, pretty much having gotten used to the crutch she needed for her sprained ankle. Once Walt was up she asked him, "How are you this morning?"

Walt paused. He felt different somehow after being buried alive in the mudslide and then digging his way out toward the sound of Alex's voice. Followed by horsing around in the mud after the danger was passed. He was grateful for being alive, yet felt he should be bettering himself in some manner. "I feel all right, but something feels different. I can't really explain it. But how are you?"

"It appears that I will need this crutch for about a week, and then I will be in as good shape as before. My ankle is indeed sprained, and I just have to be careful to keep my weight off it." She went on to explain, "The Others have declared the entire south section of tunnels off limits to us. You had mined just about all the otherite there was in that area anyway. Today you will start mining the eastern section."

Walt had almost forgotten there was another section of the mines. For months he had been going straight forward down the corridor from his room to the large central chamber, and onward into the tunnel with all those side corridors. The stream to wash off in was to the right, or west side, but there was another passageway leading east. That morning Alex led Walt to the eastern leading corridor. It was similar to the one leading south, but there were side tunnels only on the left side. Alex explained that any tunnels on the right side would soon intersect with the first tunnel that led to the left from the south-leading main corridor. The picture made sense to Walt.

"There are sixteen tunnels leading off to the left side," explained Alex, "and you are to mine them in order. You may as well get started."

Alex retreated back to the central chamber so that she would be far enough way so that Walt would be able to detect the otherite in this portion of the mines, but Walt was having trouble. This day there was only a faint buzzing sound in his head at best. His progress was slow and unsure, and by lunchtime he had unearthed around a quarter of his usual morning quota. Alex gave him a worried look at lunch, and Walt didn't need to be told what he was likely to be in for. The afternoon work shift produced about the same results.

The pair ate dinner mainly in silence. They went through the usual motions when the meal was finished, Walt washing up and getting ready for bed, and Alex taking the dinner tray and dishes away and returning as if to shackle Walt to the bed. But this time she was carrying the dreaded syringe and bottle of iodine. "Walt," she started, but was promptly interrupted.

"I know, I didn't get enough otherite, my detection system is down, and I need another booster shot. I suppose I have to be tied to this chair again." Walt looked at the ropes that had been used for that purpose several weeks before, and which had been lying unused in a corner since then. "Isn't there anything else we could do?"

Alex looked sad. "You know you have to be restrained when you are injected or you will hurt somebody. So you have to be tied to the chair. That's all we have here, except for being all stretched out on the bed, and I don't think you'd want to do that."

It had been almost two months, but that experience was still fresh in Walt's mind. "No way. I'm not going through anything like that again. The Others have …" A wave of disgust swept through Walt. He continued, "I was going to say intimidated me too much. But I can't let them get to me like that. This would only be for a minute, with no dripping water, and it would be you around instead of them, so it won't be too tight." Walt hesitated, and continued, "No, I've got to do it that way. I can't be afraid when there's no reason to be."

Alex was surprised at this turn at events. "You don't have to … ," but she was stopped by the look of determination on Walt's face. "Well, I can just wrap the chains around the bed legs to shorten their reach," she reluctantly admitted. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I will be when this is over. There's no real difference between being tied to the chair or the bed. And then I can just go to sleep like usual." Walt hopped onto the bed, and stretched out his limbs.

Alex realized there was no more use arguing. She snapped the manacles around Walt's ankles, and then wrapped the other two chains twice around the bed legs before securing those. "How's that?" she asked.

Walt moved his hands back and forth several centimeters. "Not tight enough." They both knew that he had to be restrained quite tightly for both their sakes; any unnecessary injuries would get them both into more trouble.

"The chains won't wrap around the legs three times. Wait, maybe I can twist them." Alex used the key to unlock the manacle around Walt's right wrist, and then twisted the chain a few times so that it barely reached. She then repeated the procedure on Walt's left hand. He had to strain his left arm outward, but was just able to get his wrist out far enough for Alex to close the corresponding manacle around it.

This time Walt could only move his hands a millimeter or two. "That's good enough," he declared. "Just give me a few seconds to get ready." Walt took a deep breath. For a moment he thought he was crazy. The unpleasant feeling of being immobilized overcame him, and visions of the water torture filled his mind. But then logic took over. He would have been immobilized tied to the chair as well, and he had the chance to get rid of this personal demon. He wasn't stretched out quite as much as in that previous incident. In addition, this was another way of showing he had complete trust in Alex, even though she was most likely convinced already. Now confident, Walt took one more deep breath and told Alex, "All right, I'm ready. Let's get this over with."

Walt's stomach quivered as Alex rubbed the iodine over it. She explained, "The last two injections were in your shoulders, and the Others say that it is best to inject this solution somewhere else, like in the abdomen a few centimeters below the sternum."

This was a surprise to Walt, but he decided it didn't matter. He braced himself for the injection as he felt the point of the needle contact his skin where Alex had indicated.

Alex regretfully pushed the plunger of the syringe all the way down and quickly withdrew it. A second later Walt clenched his fists and was pulling hard against the chains, but they rendered his limbs immobile as planned, and all he could do was turn his head from side to side and bang it up and down against the mattress. Not wishing to witness Walt's agony, Alex turned her head aside. But a few seconds later, something compelled her to watch. As evident by his facial contortions, Walt was putting up a tremendous effort to avoid screaming. Alex couldn't help but admire the effort, and to see the muscles in the limbs of the spread-eagled form straining so mightily against the restraints. This reminded her of the Walt she had first met; the one that was so full of life and so anxious to return to his father and friends above ground. It was actually inspirational. Then in a minute, the straining stopped, and Walt was just breathing very heavily.

"All you okay?" Alex asked with trepidation.

"I got a bad headache," came the reply from a grimacing face. Walt realized there was no point in hiding this agony from Alex. He had already gotten through the worst part, and had a new feeling of confidence as he had hoped for. He would still have to be careful, but he wasn't going to be intimidated so easily by the Others.

Alex moved as quickly as she could to the head of the bed, and plunged her hands into Walt's massive mop of hair until they reached his temples. She rubbed them slowly and gently, and asked, "Is this better? Oh, should I loosen the chains first?"

The massaging of his temples was gradually mitigating the pain in his head, and Walt didn't want that to stop just now. Being spread-eagled another couple minutes was no big deal to him now. "That's much better, please keep it up."

Alex was glad to know she was helping, and continued her headache cure. "Just let me know when to stop." In about five minutes Walt told her his head was feeling fine. Alex then disentangled her arms from Walt's twenty-five centimeter thickhair, causing a small yelp. "Sorry about pulling your hair like that. Are you sure you're okay?"

Something suddenly came over Walt. He squirmed some, and declared, "Actually, it itches around where you stuck me with the needle."

Alex was a little concerned, as Walt hadn't mentioned this after the other injections. She lightly scratched the region that had been covered by the iodine.

"No, it's much more spread out than that," informed Walt.

Alex then scratched Walt all over his stomach and chest, which Walt enjoyed. In a couple minutes, he broke out into too large a grin. Alex noticed, and asked, "What was that big smile for?"

Walt confessed, "You pulling on my hair didn't hurt, and it didn't really itch. But it did feel real good."

Alex was glad to see Walt express some spirit, but had to do something about the behavior. In mock indignation, she declared, "You deserve this!" and startled tickling Walt's sides.

Walt tried to hold out, but within a few seconds was laughing and squirming, trying to avoid this supposed punishment. In another minute he pleaded, "I'm sorry, I promise I won't do that again."

"All right then." Alex stopped, but then gave Walt a series of chops up and down his chest and stomach like she had done a few days before, knowing that he liked it. Then she stopped and took a step back. "You know, you deserve to be left like that all night."

"I guess maybe I do." The possibility wasn't frightening to Walt any more; now it might be more like a challenge he was confident of meeting. But after waiting a few minutes to learn his fate, Alex pretended to give in.

"Unfortunately, the Others expect a solid day's output from you tomorrow, and you might not sleep well enough like that." Then Alex unlocked the manacles around Walt's wrists, unwound the chains from the bed legs, and then reattached them, so Walt was in the familiar position of having his elbows bent at right angles. Then she finally said good night.

The next morning Alex arrived, moving a little better on her crutch. Acting more seriously, she released Walt quickly and asked, "How are you today?"

"I actually feel pretty good, like I'm more confident, and not scared so much. Thanks for making last night go as well as it could. I do hope that's the last of those injections, though. Maybe that's what made me act funny, tricking you like that. It was like part of me wanted to be left all stretched out just to prove to the Others that I could take it. But I guess it's better that they don't know."

"If the injection worked, it should be the last one. Based on your previous work rate, you should finish mining the eastern section before that last injection wears off. You could be right in that the injection made you act unusual; we'll see if any more incidents like that happen in the future. But don't worry about acting funny. It is excellent that you still have your spirit and a sense of humor after being here almost three months. Those qualities are very helpful in getting through ordeals like this. I understand why you acted the way you did, and am glad you got over what was bothering you. And I'm sure you could 'take it' as you put it, but the Others don't need to know that. I told them that you were tied to that chair like before, and then chained to the bed after you stopped struggling."

"Wow, that was good thinking, lying to the Others like that. It's great that you can do that now."

The injection had worked as intended. Walt immediately returned to his previous level of productivity. The days passed as he methodically extracted all the otherite that was practical, and in another week Alex was able to get along without the crutch. In the following days she was able to move around enough to acquire some information. Then one night, she told Walt,

"The Others have been putting a lot of resources into repairing the damage caused by the explosion that buried you. They have been clearing the debris, and fixing their machines, while timing it so that they don't come near you. It appears that your friends made an attempt to get in that way, but they have no idea of what they did. A consequence of this is that the Others are not so concerned with the entrance through which you first came here. There is only a single guard posted most of the time, with nobody else near. They are afraid your friends will make another attempt to reach you through the southern end of the mines."

Walt was grateful to hear this information. As he lay in bed before falling asleep, he thought, "Come on Dad, find the entrance by the water and come get us."

Michael didn't believe in telepathy or any of that other nonsense about supernatural abilities, but had in fact just completed repairing and testing his canoe and found it seaworthy. He and his crew were going to take off that morning, in search of an entrance that must be there, somewhere on the north side of the island, where that wretched powerboat had taken his son.


	33. The Canoeists' Discovery

Authors' Note: I added a clause in the previous section establishing Walt's current hair thickness at twenty-five centimeters for continuity purposes in the chapters following this one.

* * *

Michael and his canoe-mates explore the north shore of the island.

* * *

At long last, Michael's canoe was ready. The obvious question was who would be going on the mission. The vessel would seat four comfortably, plus their supplies, but there was enough room besides to bring Walt back. Sayid was a natural choice thanks to all his military experience. He also wanted to find whatever information he could for Danielle's sake. Sawyer was now apparently fully recovered, and had a score to settle. Despite assurances from everybody that the kidnapping was in no way his fault, he still had feelings that it could have turned out differently if he hadn't been so obvious in drawing the gun on the raft, or was a faster shot. In his own way he wanted to help set things right. 

Then there was Jin, who by now had forged a strong friendship with Michael and was determined to go along. His background as an "employee" for Sun's father could be useful. However, Sun was reluctant to be separated from her husband for what might be a long trip. They found a compromise. Sun could walk along the beach up to the point where the shore became too rocky to travel, while the men were paddling the canoe. It would be useful to have someone with some medical experience relatively nearby. Jack wouldn't leave Claire and her baby, now more than three months old, for a long period to time, and he wanted to hang around in case Locke had complications in his recovery from the broken legs. Charlie also wanted to stay near Claire. Also, Shannon had a couple of recent minor asthma attacks, and would be near the caves most of the time, with Vincent. Michael considered bringing Vincent along, but not having found Walt on the previous land trip around the island, and worried about what Vincent would do in a canoe, agreed that the Labrador should be left behind this time.

However, it wouldn't do for Sun to be hiking alone; they would have to find another person. They were able to find a volunteer: Hurley. Always wanting to be helpful, Hurley decided that with Locke improving and Jack around anyway, he might be more useful accompanying the rescue squad part of the way. And he could always use the exercise.

Regarding weapons, the group took along two guns, to be carried by Sayid and Sawyer. The castaways not going on the rescue mission should have some guns in case the Others attacked them over land. Locke provided half a dozen knives to the effort, and Jack gave the group two of the grenades that were left over from those that Danielle had provided. Sayid gave detailed instructions on their use.

The group set out the morning one hundred one days after the departure of the raft. Paddling to the east around the south end of the island, where the beach camp was located, was not too difficult, but as they turned more and more to the north, the current came against them. It got to the point where they came ashore and tried carrying the craft on land, but that proved not to be any faster and even more tiring. They returned to straightforward paddling, and by the end of the day were only a little ways past that cable that so mysteriously led into the ocean. It took two more days to reach the point by the northeast corner where the beach ended in a jumble of rocks.

The next morning Michael, Sawyer, Jin, and Sayid pushed off in the canoe into the waters that were annoyingly turbulent. They had to paddle hard to avoid crashing into rocks right off the bat. Then they followed a course more distant from the northern shore. There was a question as to how far out they should row. Too close, and they risked crashing into jagged rocks along the shore. Too far, and they might not see the entrance which logically had to be there. The Others' boat had to have made port somewhere along the stretch. A consensus was reached to keep well away from the rocks on the first pass. Crashing would be disastrous, and there was a chance they could find the entrance from a distance.

It turned out that the conservative route did not pay off. The quartet paddled clear across the north edge of the island, and reached the beach at the northwest corner that Michael, Jin, and Sayid had seen three months before. As the sun would set within the hour, there was nothing to do but make camp for the night.

The next morning they reversed course, crossing the north edge of the island from west to east. This time they risked paddling closer to the shore. On a couple occasions the canoe scraped the rocks, and they had to retreat some distance. Then near noon, Sayid spotted what they were looking for. There was a definite opening in the rock face, which was temporarily exposed when overhanging tree branches were pushed aside by the wind. Unfortunately, that same wind combined with the current around the cave mouth combined to propel the canoe forward at a substantial speed. The oarsmen tried to reverse course again, but it took all of the rowers' efforts to keep the canoe from being pushed back to the east. It was a task they couldn't keep up indefinitely. Buffeted by the wind and current, the canoe scraped more rocks, sustaining more damage. The canoeists had to attend to the damage, stuffing supply bags and extra clothes into cracks to keep the vessel from taking on water, but in the process the canoe sped with little control away from the cave entrance. By the time everything was under control, it was mid-afternoon. Despite Michael's overpowering desires to try to return to the opening, they limped back to the northeast corner of the island shortly before sunset. Sun and Hurley were waiting with high hopes, but it was quickly apparent to them that the expedition had not met with success yet.

The next day the group repaired the canoe, and made a couple of new paddles. However, by the time they were ready to push off again, the current was dead against them. They were pushed out to sea, northeast of the island, and had to row around and to the south before the waters calmed down enough for them to reach the beach once more by paddling to the west. This time they had to carry the vessel back north to the corner where Sun and Hurley had been maintaining vigil.

Another day, and the current was much more favorable. The canoe crew took off just past dawn, and reached the cave opening within two hours. They tied the canoe to some tree branches and rocks, with Jin indicating how it should be tied to prevent it from being dashed upon the rocks. Armed with the knives and guns and carrying some ammo and provisions in backpacks, they crept cautiously into the cave opening, careful not to make a sound.

Back at the northeast corner, Hurley suddenly trembled. He stated in an ominous voice only Sun could hear, "Something big is going to happen today. Whatever it, it will be today. It's been a hundred and eight days since the raft set sail."


	34. The Shots Heard Round the Mines

Author's Note: I apologize for the long delay. The usual excuses: too much work, and a touch of writer's block. Then I wasn't able to upload the last chapter. Fortunately, with the extra days I improved it. I thank all those who are still keeping up with this.

* * *

Gunfire is exchanged as the rescue crew encounters the Others' guard. Alex and Walt must come up with a plan quickly.

* * *

A few more routine days came and went for Walt and Alex. They tried to keep each other's spirits up, but it was getting harder and harder. They observed that at the rate Walt was going, he would have completed mining the eastern network of mines within a week. A dinnertime conversation ensued. 

"What do you think they intend do with me when I'm done with the mine if we're not rescued by then? I don't think they're letting me go even if they said they would early on."

Alex looked sad. It was conceivable that the Others would "dispose" of Walt if they had no more use for him, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Don't give up hope that we will be rescued. But I think you would still be valuable to them. They certainly have more use for you than for me, and they've kept me around all these years. They're not going to kill you, if that's what you're worried about."

"Well, of course I've thought of that. Maybe we should try to escape before I'm done mining. I know that if we're caught I'll be whipped or tortured, but if the alternative is death, it's a risk worth taking."

"Please don't talk like that." Alex did not like the direction in which this conversation was headed. "Let's try to think more positively. How can we escape, or aid in our rescue?" I told you that there's usually only one guard at the water entrance. But I can't just walk past him or overpower him. Together we might stand a chance, but if anyone sees you between your room and that entrance the alarm will be sounded immediately. We would have to pass some rooms where the Others are usually in."

"What else do you know? If the Others are separated, maybe we could take them out one at a time?"

"That's a good thought, but we can't count on that. Recently, during the day, three of them have been fixing their machine that was damaged in the explosion that buried you, and the other four, excluding the guard, are usually in the laboratory or their sleeping quarters. Often one is in the kitchen; we all have to eat, you know. At night, they are all between here and the entrance. Furthermore, there is someone checking up on me every day to make sure everything is going as they plan. They are still making sure you are chained to that bed each night. I think I could get away with lying to them if I didn't chain you up, but we could only get away with that once. We've got to be very careful if that's what we're planning."

"Yes, I have to agree with you. Maybe in a few days we can try that, if we have a great plan by then." The thought kept Walt in high enough spirits that a little while later he didn't mind being chained up once again for the night. Then he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that way. How long had it been? It was over one hundred nights of being chained to that bed, and the last seventy-five with both hands and feet in shackles. Glaring up into the darkness, he pulled hard on the chains to remind himself that this was not normal, and that he wasn't going to meekly accept this situation. He took several deep breaths, and faded off to sleep once more.

The next morning Walt was mining the fourth-to-last tunnel in the eastern section of the mines. Alex was standing by in the central cavern, far enough away so that Walt would be able to mine the otherite without interference, when she heard a noise that would change the course of her life. Three sharp, loud cracks echoed through the tunnels: sounds of gunshots.

Michael, Sawyer, Jin, and Sayid had crept along a rough walkway next to the channel that led into the caves. Once inside, shivers went through the first three of these as they recognized that awful powerboat. Jin thought to check the fuel level, and found it close to empty. The foursome proceeded to the end of the walkway, where they were faced by a long set of stairs. Sawyer and Sayid, holding the guns, led the way. They made it down the stairs. Keeping quiet, they heard something like a person turning a page of a book or turning over a piece of paper in the hallway at the base of the stairs. Synchronizing their movements, Sawyer ducked down into the near side of the corridor, while Sayid leaped across it. The Other, sitting at a small table, had been bored through days of nothing happening, but still had a gun in his hand. However, he was confronted by a choice of two targets, and could only get off one shot. Having seen Sayid move first, the guard took his shot at the Iraqi. But Sayid had already pulled the trigger of his gun, and his shot hit the Other in the right arm. Sawyer's shot hit his target in the leg, while the Other's shot just grazed Sayid's shoulder. Michael and Jin heard three shots in rapid-fire succession, and were relieved to find out their two friends were standing.

Wasting no time, Alex had sprinted down the main tunnel of the eastern mine, and turned into the in which corridor Walt was working. From his position, Walt hadn't heard the gunfire. Walt was startled to see her, but the look on her face immediately told him something dramatic was happening.

"Gunshots!" Alex exclaimed. "It has to your friends."

Walt was shocked. "What should we do?"

Alex took a second to think. "We have to be careful. These tools may be weapons, but they're no match for guns. The Others are sure to chain you up somewhere, probably in your room. Unless, … I have an idea. Grab some weapons and let's get over toward the water entrance and see what we can do."

Alex and Walt went through the wheelbarrow and decided on two hammers of different lengths and a crowbar, and then ran back through the tunnels, and past Walt's room, up to the side tunnel where Alex's room was located. She took Walt to the door, entered her room, and returned with a key.

"In case the Others catch us, or just you, you should have a concealed weapon."

Walt's outfit did not lend itself to concealing much of anything, but Alex showed what she meant by taking the short hammer, and inserting it handle first into Walt's massive Afro, now fully three decimeters in diameter. Walt adjusted it so that it balanced, and his hair was easily thick enough to keep it in place.

"The other thing is if they catch you, they'll probably chain you in one of these rooms. This key will open any of the manacles around here. I have another on me. Now hide it up there as well. If they catch us, we can try to get you put in a room where you'll be able to reach it."

The key had a small hole in one end. Walt threaded a few hairs from the top of his head through it, and worked it down so that it was hidden from sight. He could tell Alex meant well, but sincerely hoped this precaution wasn't necessary.

"Now what do we do?" asked Walt, holding onto the long hammer while Alex kept the crowbar.

"We see what's going on." They left the side tunnel leading to Alex's room, and re-entered the long corridor. Turning right, they approached a corner that Walt had not seen in a while. Around this corner to the left was a sequence of rooms, or cave chambers. One was the room where he had been chained by a wall his second day in captivity, when he had been convinced to do what the Others told him to. Then there would be the flight of stairs leading up to the channel where the boat had taken him. There would also be the laboratory, and presumably the room where he had been subjected to the water torture. At the end of this corridor would be the flight of stone steps that led up into the mountain, where there was that small room with a view of the ocean, where he had his last glimpse of his father, and Sawyer and Jin, and had tried to signal them by bouncing sunlight off a pair of binoculars.

Having put the Other out of commission, Michael, Sawyer, Jin, and Sayid dragged him into the nearest room, after checking to make sure no one was. Michael demanded to know where Walt was, but he was yelling at someone who was genuinely unconscious. Certainly the gunshots would attract the attention of everyone around, and the group of four had a very limited supply of bullets, although after taking the Other's gun, the supply increased a little. The group discussed their strategy. They would search the area in two groups of two – Michael and Sawyer in one team, and Jin and Sayid in the other. Then they heard a noise in the adjacent room, which also had an entrance onto the main corridor – the laboratory.

Seconds after the group of four had entered that side room, Alex and Walt took a peek down the main corridor. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for some blood on the floor that was too far away too be seen. Then they heard someone approaching from behind them, coming from the south network of tunnels. This was one of the Others who had been working on fixing the damaged machine. Alex sneaked a quick peek back, and saw that this Other was brandishing a gun. They could try ambushing him at the corner, but that was a terrible chance to take.

"Walt, you have to trust me on this. Give me that hammer. I have to pretend I'm still on their side and just caught you."

Not knowing what else to do, Walt went with his gut feeling and trusted Alex.

"Now, we have to go into this first room." It turned out to be the room where Walt had been chained his second day there. He remembered nearly being lifted off his heels when the manacles were fastened. It was one of many bad memories, but there was little choice. The Other's footsteps approached more rapidly, and he hollered out,

"What's going on here?"

Alex was about to put on an act, and hope Walt would follow her lead.


	35. Reunion under Fire

Author's note: I again apologize for the long delay. This part has been difficult to write. I hope this is worth the wait.

* * *

Michael and Walt finally reunite in the heat of battle.

* * *

As the armed Other approached, Alex pretended not to hear him, and pushed Walt into the room where he had been chained on his second day of captivity. She led him to one dark end, and set down the long hammer in a corner where she hoped it wouldn't be noticed. Then holding the crowbar, she ordered in a voice loud enough for the approaching Other to hear, "Chain yourself to this wall now, or I'll hit you with this!" When Walt was too stunned to react, Alex dropped the crowbar, and took each of his arms in turn and snapped a manacle around the corresponding wrist. These were the manacles attached to the chains, leading to pulleys near the ceiling, that left Walt barely able to stand on his heels three and a half months ago, but now there was fifteen centimeters of slack.

Walt was shocked. "I've grown this much?"

"I'm afraid you have," replied Alex quietly. "You don't remember being so much shorter than I when we first met, and now we're about the same height? But that's not important now. You can reach the key like that, right?"

Walt stepped a little to one side, and with one hand reached into his hair until he felt the key.

"Yes."

"Good. The Others will leave you alone for now. A time will come when it will be safe for you to free yourself, and you may be able to use that hammer in your hair. You should hold your arms straight up, to make yourself look more helpless."

Walt did as instructed, grasping the chains over his head. Alex rotated the manacles so that the keyholes were facing inside, to make it easier for Walt to unlock the manacles himself. She then picked up the crowbar just before the Other carrying a gun entered.

"I said, what's going on here?"

Alex remained composed and replied, "The boy heard gunshots, and ran past me in this direction. I got one of the tools from the wheelbarrow, and chased him here. He didn't seem to know where to go, so I took care of that." Alex pointed to a very dejected looking Walt, arms straight up and head hanging down.

Never letting go of his grip on his gun, the Other went over to Walt. The Other checked the manacles to make sure they were really locked. Then he punched Walt in the stomach. "We'll take care of you later," he informed Walt in an angry tone. Fortunately, Walt saw the punch coming, and just had time to tense his abdominal muscles, so the blow was not as damaging as it might have been. Compared to many of his other experiences here, this was among the least painful, but Walt put on an act, recoiling backwards with his rear end hitting the wall, and letting out a loud groan.

"Come with me," the Other ordered Alex as he yanked the crowbar out of her hand, and then grabbed her by the arm. They exited the room and turned toward the main entrance by the waterway. As Walt heard the sound of their footsteps fade, he practiced reaching the key in his hair and then the keyhole in the manacles. Quickly becoming adept in this unusual skill, he wondered when would be the best time to free himself, but he would not have long to wait.

Having heard the noise in the laboratory from the connecting side room, the castaway foursome planned their strategy. Sayid and Jin would go through the connecting door, while Michael and Sawyer would go back through the hall and enter from that direction, hopefully surrounding them. Unfortunately, as the latter pair went back into the hall, the Other who had just chained up Walt also entered the hallway. He took aim at Michael and Sawyer. But just as he was pulling the trigger, Alex hit his wrist, knocking the gun loose and sending the bullet wild. The Other shoved Alex hard into the wall, incapacitating her. Seeing that this girl may have just saved their lives, Michael and Sawyer sprinted toward her and the second Other.

The gunshot had attracted the attention of a third Other who had just entered the laboratory from a back door. Reacting quickly, he ran out the same door, and watched through a window as Sayid and Jin entered. The Other then pushed three buttons in a control panel, locking all the doors to the lab. Then he ran into a side corridor that connected with the main hallway, and reached it as Michael and Sawyer were passing by. As Sawyer was closer, he was the one the Other blindsided with a hard tackle, stunning the one-time con man.

Michael hesitated, but Sawyer insisted, "Get the gun!"

Michael resumed running toward the second Other and Alex. The second Other reached the gun on the floor just before Michael grabbed his arm. In the ensuing struggle all the remaining bullets were fired, ricocheting wildly off the walls, floor and ceiling. Then the third Other, leaving the stunned Sawyer alone, caught up with his colleague and Michael. Michael fought ferociously, holding out much longer than could be expected in a two-against-one fight, but was eventually forced into another room and pushed against a wall. The Others turned briefly toward the far wall, and out of the corner of his eye Michael thought he saw a man chained against that wall. Apparently the Others were making sure that poor soul was safely in place.

As the Others were trying to chain Michael to the wall closer to the door, he saw the figure sneaking up quickly in the darkness from behind the Others. Michael continued to resist, buying some time as it was taking the Others a few more seconds to snap the manacles on him. As the person got closer, Michael realized that the figure was not a full-grown man, but rather a youth with an enormous Afro a foot in diameter. This person appeared to be naked, with skin that was indeed dark, and not just appearing that way because of the bad lighting in the room. Of course Michael thought about Walt, but this boy had to be about six inches taller, even without the hair. Michael pretended not to see anything as the manacles were clamped around his wrists. As he drew close, Michael could tell that the youth wasn't quite naked, but wearing what could be considered very brief shorts, more like a loincloth in fact, and he was pulling something out of his hair. The object turned out to be some kind of hammer, and only as he drew back his hand preparing to strike, could Michael make out his facial features and get one tremendous shock.

When Walt heard the gunshot outside his prison room barely a minute after Alex and the Other left, he promptly decided he needed to be out of the manacles. He had just released himself when he saw his father and two Others struggling and entering this room. Walt immediately raised his hands straight over his head, to give him time to assess the situation. The Others only gave him a quick glance, and Michael gave no hint of recognition. Walt tiptoed silently across the room, pulled the hammer from within his hair, and swung it as hard as he could at the Other who happened to be on Walt's right. The blow landed on the back of the Other's head, sending him crashing to the floor. The other Other had enough time to react, and punched Walt in the jaw, knocking him down and causing the hammer to fly away. This action enraged Michael even further. While shackled by his hands, Michael gave that Other a vicious kick to the groin. As the Other howled in pain and bent over double, Michael grabbed the chains with his hands, and jumped up to knee the Other in the face. With one more jump, with both feet Michael kicked the Other so hard in the chest that ribs could be heard cracking. The Other crumpled to the floor next to Walt.

Scarcely believing what had just happened, Walt regained his composure enough to retrieve the key to the manacles from the only place he had time to put it: in his loincloth, and freed his father. There followed an intense but short hug, as their friends lay about injured and in trouble. Had it not been for the dire situation, tears would have been flowing copiously.


	36. Strategy for the Continuing Battle

After initial success,the battle continues, with Alex, Walt, and Michael having to quickly come up with a risky plan to defeat more of the Others.

* * *

With the two others unconscious at Walt and Michael's feet, Walt quickly pointed at more manacles chained to the wall near the floor, and told Michael, "We can chain them here."

Michael dragged the Others to the wall one at a time, and searched them for more weapons. He found a manacle key on each. Walt then took great satisfaction in snapping the manacles shut. The Others were badly injured, but he didn't care at the moment. Then he and Michael ran back outside, to Alex, still lying stunned on the floor. They helped her to her feet, and then heard another gunshot. Walt quickly picked up the short hammer off the floor, and then he and Michael hustled Alex around the corner, and into the hallway leading to her room, Walt's room, and eventually the mines.

It turns out that the gunshot had been fired by Sayid. With him and Jin locked in the laboratory, they decided to expend one of their precious bullets on freeing themselves. Sayid had taken careful aim, and shot the lock off the door they had just come through. The first Other they encountered and shot was still there. He looked in terrible shape, but Sayid wasn't going to take any chances at this point. He took some rope and tied the Others' hands to two table legs, and then gagged him with a piece of cloth.

Next, Sayid and Jin carefully went carefully into the corridor, and spotted Sawyer lying stunned on the floor. They picked him up and half-dragged half-carried him back to the room they came from. "What happened?" asked Sayid.

Sawyer did not respond immediately. Jin abstracted a bottle of water from his backpack and held it to Sawyer's lips. Sawyer dipped the offered water slowly, and gradually regained his senses.

"An Other came out of a room with this girl … he was going to shoot us, but she … hit his arm, and knocked the gun out of his hand. The bullet missed. … The girl … the Other smacked her into the wall. Mike and I ran toward them, when … someone blindsided me. I didn't see anything after that."

"We have to follow Michael," announced Sayid. Jin had to guess at the conversation, but was sure to follow the other two. "Can you make it, Sawyer?" continued Sayid.

Sawyer struggled to his feet, took a few unsteady steps, and then some surer one. "You're darn tootin' I can make it. Let's go get them."

Meanwhile, Michael and Walt had gotten Alex to her room. Walt got a cup of water from an adjoining room, similar to the bathroom connected to his room, and coaxed Alex to sip it. In a couple of minutes she had regained her wits. Walt explained how he and Michael had subdued two of the Others, while Michael told about the first Other who had been shot.

"That leaves five," announced Alex. "Two of them should be in the mines, and they will be armed. I hope your friends can take care of the other three."

"I like their chances," replied Michael. "We have a military expert, a man who is a good martial artist and was required to use weapons in his, uh, profession, and another who's no stranger to guns either."

"There was also a gunshot in that main hallway around the corner. We don't know who fired that," added Walt.

"We need to make a plan." Alex thought for a few seconds, and then said, "Quick, we have to get to your room before those Others get back from the mines. They still won't know I'm on your side, and we can fool them long enough to gain the upper hand."

With no further delay, they checked the corridor, ascertained no one else was in it, and raced to Walt's room. Michael nearly gagged in disgust when he saw the accommodations. Most prominent was that bed, really just an old bare mattress on a frame, with chains emanating from each corner. There were also some ropes in a corner, near two small chairs and a table. "Walt, have you been ... uh ...".

"Never mind now, Dad, it wasn't that bad. I'll tell you all about it later."

Alex interrupted by asking Michael, "Do you have any weapons?"

Michael checked his pack. "Yes, I've still got two knives."

"You have knives?" asked Walt. "Have you been practicing with them?"

Michael hesitated, but had to be honest. "Yes, I asked Mr. Locke to help me learn to throw them, and I asked Sayid to give me fighting lessons, in case we ran into a situation like this."

"I'm not good with knives," said Alex. "Walt, give me that hammer. Did you once tell me you can handle a knife?"

Walt looked sheepishly at Michael, and then answered Alex, "I guess better than you. What do you have in mind?"

Alex explained her plan. "I'll let the Others see me unarmed in the hallway. I'll tell them that Walt got excited and started running away from the mines, but I chased him here, and then he didn't seem to know what to do. So I chained him to his bed for safekeeping. But his hands won't really be chained, and he can hide a knife in his hair. Michael can hide behind the entrance to the bathroom. I'll leave this hammer against the inside wall here, and be in position to grab and use it." Alex thought for a few seconds, and repositioned one of the chairs next to the wall. "Here, I'll prop it up behind the chair leg so they won't see it. They'll probably check Walt's chains. When I give the word, we can all attack at once."

Michael didn't like the thought of chaining Walt's feet, even though Walt seemed agreeable to Alex's plan. "I could hide behind this first door," Michael offered as an alternative.

"The Others will be watching out for that. And you could only get one of them. The second would then shoot at least one of us."

"Come on, Dad, Alex knows the Others better than we do, and her plan of chaining me to the wall of that other room worked perfectly. Please trust her, I do."

Alex peeked out into the corridor. "We don't have much time! They're coming now!"

Michael relented, handed Walt one of the knives, and took up a position just inside the doorway to the bathroom. Walt hopped onto the bed and lodged his knife over his right ear. "Please let this be the last time I'm on this bed," he thought to himself. Alex snapped shut the manacles on his ankles. But for his hands, she positioned the manacles so that their openings were face down, and not quite closed. Walt would be able to sit up and raise his arm in an instant.

Alex stepped into the hall. Knowing the two Others could see her, but pretending not to know they were present, shouted at Walt, "Now stay there, and don't cause any more trouble!" She then looked up the corridor, and said, "Oh, hello. The boy got spooked by what sounded like gunshots, and ran back here. I've chained him up to keep him out of the way while we find out what is going on."

The Others looked suspiciously at Alex, and cautiously entered the room. The first one checked to make sure no one was hiding behind the door. Then looking in, he saw Walt chained spread out and flat on his back to the bed. The second Other grabbed Alex's right arm with his left hand while carrying his gun in his right, and forced her to enter the room with him. The first Other checked the manacles around Walt's ankles, and found them secure. He reasoned Alex had been telling the truth, and relaxed a little bit. Then Alex reached for the hammer behind the chair leg with her left hand. As she touched the handle, the second Other noticed the movement.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

The first Other was about to move forward to test the manacles around Walt's wrists, when he turned his head at hearing the question.

Alex hadn't meant for the second Other to notice her reach for the hammer, and she didn't get a grip on the handle. But having made the move, there was no turning back. In a voice louder than she had ever used in her life, she screamed, "NOW!"


	37. Catching Up on Events

During a break in the battle, Michael and Walt catch up on events over the psst 108 days.

* * *

As Alex shouted, the second Other, the one farther into the room, turned his head to see the first Other, holding Alex, pull her toward him, and throw a punch with the hand holding his gun. Before the punch connected, however, Walt had sat up, and in one quick motion seized the handle of the knife hidden in his hair over his ear, and hurled it directly into the Other's right shoulder. That Other howled in pain as he dropped his gun and his punch landed with much less force than intended. The second Other's reaction was to blindly strike Walt in the head with his gun hand. That Other was a moment too late to realize that Michael had sprung from behind the doorway and was already aiming his knife. With Walt safely off to the side, Michael threw his knife, and made it stick into the Other's side. As the Other fell a shot was fired from his gun, but it only hit the ceiling. In another second Michael had pounced on him, and knocked him out with one vicious punch to the jaw. The first Other struggled to reach his dropped gun, but with adrenalin pumping at full throttle Michael reached him as he was bent over, and delivered a hard chop to the back of the neck. This Other crumpled to the floor, bleeding and unconscious.

"Walt! Are you okay?" Michael practically screamed.

Thanks to Walt's mass of thick hair, the Other's blow to his head was cushioned somewhat, although it would leave a bruise. "Yes, Dad, I'm okay, check on Alex. I can get out of this." Walt retrieved the manacle key from his loincloth, and unlocked the manacles around his ankles. He got up and hurried over to Alex, who was slumped against the wall. "Alex! Are you okay?"

Alex would have a bruise on her face and a bump on the back of her head where it hit the wall, but it might have been a lot worse. "I … I'll be all right, I just need to rest for a minute. Chain them, and …" Alex paused. "and bandage their wounds. We don't want to stoop to their level and just let them bleed to death."

Michael and Walt helped Alex up, and walked her to the bed, where she lay down. The thought crossed Michael's mind that bleeding to death would be an appropriate sentence for the Others, but Alex's words made some sense, and he didn't want to appear too cruel in front of his son. Maybe they would bleed to death anyway despite their efforts. Michael and Walt first chained one wrist of each Other to one of the manacles fastened to chains connected to the legs on the right side of Walt's now former bed, the side away from the door. Next, he searched them, finding and taking a manacle key from each. Then Michael tore off the sleeves of the Others' shirts. Walt ran into the bathroom to soak them in water, and returned, handing them to Michael who pulled the knives out, and tied the strips of cloth tightly around the shoulder and side wounds.

Next, Michael and Walt checked the corridor, but it was silent. There was no trace of anyone else, which agreed with Alex's description of where the Others should be located. Then they went back to the bathroom, to wash off the knives and to talk while giving Alex a chance to recover. Michael spoke first: "Oh Walt, I missed you so much! What have those animals done to you?"

There was way too much to talk about. Walt's reaction was to step forward and hug his father, and proclaim, "I was afraid I'd never see you again! And … thanks for saving my life, and Alex's just now." Walt was practically in tears, but after several seconds composed himself. "They had me working in these mines, looking for some mineral they said they needed to cure some disease they have. They said children on this island had some kind of ability to sense it if they were injected with something. Their drug worked, but it had side effects. It made me grow fast. I had to clip my finger and toenails every day, and my hair got kind of long."

This was hard for Michael to take in. "When we get back, we'll have Jack take a look at you. But couldn't you at least have gotten a haircut?"

Walt cracked a smile. "Alex gave some excuse about us not handling sharp objects, but I think she likes it like this. She ran her fingers though it a few times, and said she's never seen anything like it. But about Alex – she has to be that French woman's daughter, right? How is she?"

Michael had forgotten about Danielle, but now remembered the resemblance. "Her name is Danielle, and she helped us a few times, getting us weapons from her hideout. I'm sure she's on the island somewhere, but don't know where."

"We've got to get her back to her mother. Alex should be feeling better now. Let's just get my stuff from here; I could still use it. The Others gave me a few things for good behavior. Here's the nail clippers; it works really well. And would you believe this Afro-pick? Maybe we could use this bar of soap and washcloth. Oh, and my change of clothes."

Michael frowned as Walt pointed to a scrap of cloth, or rather animal skin, hanging on the clothesline that matched the one he was currently wearing. "You don't mean to say that's all you've been wearing the past three and a half months?"

That triggered a memory. "My old clothes – when they first captured me they stripped me to my shorts, and even cut those shorter. I saw one of the Others scatter them along the ground on one side of the island, and then they took me way around to the other side. I'm afraid they were using them as a trap."

Michael now remembered. "I'm afraid you're right. A group of us went all around the island, and we found your clothes. They did lead to a trap, and Shannon and Sayid were hurt for several days, but they're okay now. Sayid is with Jin and Sawyer now nearer the cave entrance. And the trap, which was a net that released a bunch of rocks, almost got Vincent, but he's okay, and Shannon is still taking care of him."

"Vincent! I can't wait to see him!" But it would still be a couple days at least. Walt resumed his narrative. "After a few days of only wearing those shorts, they were really disgusting, and I asked if I could get something else to wear, and Alex made me a couple of loincloths out of boarskin like this. That was a surprise, and it felt really funny at first, but they are comfortable in this heat, and I got used to them. I actually outgrew some of them. Alex did a great job with these, and she told me she made the outfit she has on. But hey, some of our ancestors probably wore things like this their whole lives."

"Uh, I guess so." Michael didn't know what to say. While thinking of a response, he put the clippers, Afro-pick, and "change of clothes" in his pack that he had laid on the floor before the attack on the Others. "So all this time you've been mining this mineral in that outfit all day, and at night …"

Walt led Michael back into the bedroom. Walt sighed, "Yes, I was usually chained to this bed all night. At first it was just one hand or foot, but after I tried to communicate with Locke, … wait, what happened to Locke?"

Michael replied, "Locke was caught in an avalanche of rocks in an explosion. I helped dig him out. His legs were broken, but Jack says he'll be okay in a few weeks. Locke was in a wheelchair, but now is on crutches and getting around. Of course he wanted to come help rescue you, but just couldn't."

Walt was relieved to hear Locke hadn't been killed. "I'm sorry he got hurt; I know he was trying to rescue me. Well, after that, I was chained by both hands and both feet every night. At least I could move some and had the choice of lying face up or face down, and could alternate." Walt realized he left out the detail that Alex had done the chaining, of course under the orders of the Others, but his father didn't have to know about that now, or the water torture.

Michael was disturbed at the image of poor Walt lying shackled hand and foot and clad only in a skimpy loincloth every night for over two months, and the face-up/face-down thing did not help ease Michael's mind. He shook his head; that was in the past, and Walt had demonstrated remarkable resilience. Things were going to be a lot better. He turned to Alex and asked, "Are you feeling well enough to walk now?"

Alex struggled to a sitting position, swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and slowly stood up. "I believe so."

"Good. It's time to see how our friends are doing. Michael picked up the Others' guns, which were still on the floor, placing one in his pack and holding the other, while Walt and Alex were given the knives. They looked into the corridor, and still there was no one else present. How had Sawyer, Sayid, and Jin been doing?


	38. Final Confrontation

Sawyer, Sayid, and Jin do battle with the remaining Others.

* * *

Sawyer, Sayid, and Jin were prepared to leave the room next to the laboratory and enter the main corridor. Sayid carefully poked his head out the door near the floor to make sure the coast was clear. It wasn't. Sayid jerked his head back just before a bullet went ricocheting off the floor, the wall, and the wall at the end of the corridor. A change in plans was in order.

The trio retreated back into the room, when Sayid ordered, "Quick, into the laboratory! There may be something in there we can use." Again checking the door, and finding no one apart from the bound unconscious Other inside, they filed in. Sayid gestured to Sawyer and Jin to watch the doors, while Sayid scanned the chemical-filled bottles lined on the walls. Then Sawyer had a thought.

"Just a minute," the southerner addressed the Iraqi. "Don't you have those grenades our friend the French chick so generously donated to us?"

Sayid hadn't thought about using grenades, but answered with caution. "Yes, I have them, but they are really only to be used as a last resort. Even though this place looks very well constructed, there is danger that the walls and ceiling would collapse, trapping us here."

"There is also the danger we could be shot where we stand, and we were able to remove those rocks from the avalanche that fell on Locke."

Jin felt uneasy as the other two were conversing rapidly in English. This wasn't the best time for an argument.

"Just give me a few minutes, Sawyer," implored Sayid. "You might take a shot at him to slow him down."

"What do you want me to do? Stick my neck out there and let him get a good shot too?"

"No, I do not mean that. Wait, here is a mirror. We can push it into the hall to get a view. It is on a stand, you can find something to push it out the door with."

Sawyer grunted, then strode quickly to the mirror. As he fiddled with the angle, and searched for something like a metal rod to push it with, Sayid was making observations as to the chemical supply.

"Chloroform, … only useful if we're right on top of them, ethylene! If only there is some … yes … here: sulfur chloride!" Sayid seized the bottles, emptied their contents into a beaker, and turned the gas on a small stove. He placed a cork on the beaker.

"What are you doing, MacGyver?" asked Sawyer.

"These are the ingredients for mustard gas. I … have some familiarity with the substance thanks to my previous career. I just need a couple minutes to make these chemicals react properly. Now stall them!"

Sawyer sneered, then crouched down and placed the mirror on the floor, and pushed it along the floor through the open door. He was able to glimpse of someone in the distance, when suddenly the mirror was smashed into a thousand pieces by another bullet. Sawyer dived backward to avoid the splintering glass, and grimaced in pain once more as he hit the floor. Jin rushed over to see if Sawyer was all right, but Sawyer shooed him away. "Now there was a brilliant idea," Sawyer remarked to Sayid.

"Now is not the time to be sarcastic. You have been very helpful. The preparation is ready." Sayid held the hot beaker with a pair of tongs. "One of us should throw this at the shooter, exposing only his arm in the corridor. When the glass breaks, the concentrated mustard gas will be released. This is not enough to kill, but should temporarily disorient him. The other of us should have time to get off a shot, as long as we time it right and he is in the corridor. The question is, which of us does what?"

Sawyer dearly wanted revenge for being shot at on the raft, but wasn't in perfect physical condition, and knew the trained soldier was a better shot. With a mock salute, Sawyer replied, "All right, Captain, I'll throw, you'll shoot. And if this doesn't work, we fall back on the grenades."

Sayid relented. "Fine. Here, we should each have one." Sayid removed a grenade from the pack. "Now be very careful with this. If you have to use it, hold it tightly in your right hand. Pull hard on the pin with your left index finger, and don't let go with your right hand. The grenade will then detonate in approximately five seconds. Be sure to release it before three seconds. And only use it if absolutely necessary."

"I got it. Now are we going to do this, or what?"

Sayid took a position on the floor just inside the door. He listened for footsteps, but didn't hear any. He really needed to know who or what was in that hallway with out sticking his head out, so he silently got up, located another mirror, went back to the door, and slowly poked it out. He didn't see anyone in the reflection. He shook his head so that Sawyer could see. They waited a minute, and another, and then Sayid saw a figure in the mirror. He nodded at Sawyer, who nodded back.

Sawyer picked up the beaker that Sayid had set on the floor, and grasping it by its neck, took a step forward, and hurled it as hard as he could down the tunnel. While the gas bomb was in the air, Sayid saw a second figure step into view of the mirror, almost a twin for the first, and said to Sawyer, "There's two!", and a second later that mirror was shattered as well. One second after that the beaker crashed against the floor. Sayid stepped partway out into the hallway, enough to see two men in body armor momentarily startled. Hesitating not, Sayid took aim at the leg of the one on the left, an area not covered by the armor. Sayid's shot was true, and that Other immediately crumpled to the ground, but before Sayid could reload, the Other on the right aimed his gun at Sayid and fired. Affected by the gas, this Other's shot was slightly off, searing Sayid's right upper arm and causing him to drop his gun. An instant later a deafening noise sounded close to his left ear.

When Sawyer heard Sayid shout, "There's two," he guessed correctly that Sayid could take out one shooter, but might have trouble with the second. As Sayid was low to the ground, Sawyer reasoned the second shooter would be aiming low, and this would give Sawyer a chance for a clear shot while standing up. On this occasion his logic was impeccable, and also seeing the armor, aimed below it, and hit the second Other near the knee. With both men down, Sawyer and Sayid kept an eye on them, but neither moved. After a couple minutes, Sayid figured the mustard gas would have dissipated enough to let he and Sawyer rush the Others, while holding their breaths, to make sure they had been neutralized. One was moaning, and received a blow to the head to keep him quiet. Then Sayid and Sawyer dragged them back to the laboratory, and secured them to table legs bolted to the floor.

Sawyer tied a bandage from among the lab supplies around Sayid's wounded arm. Then with mixed feelings, Sayid tied bandages around the bleeding leg wounds, while Sawyer removed the Others' faceplates. They were in fact the twins from the raft, one of whom had shot Sawyer. He scowled in satisfaction.

The Others had been working in shifts the whole time, and on this occasion it had been the female one's turn to rest. Awakened by the latest gunfire, she entered the laboratory from the back door. But not realizing the threat and not fully alert, she was no match for Jin who was waiting behind the door. He immediately put her in a headlock, and pressed his thumb and forefinger against the carotid arteries on her neck. Within seconds she collapsed unconscious, and Jin dragged her to a chair. Soon she was secured to that.

When all was quiet, Sawyer, Sayid, and Jin again went to the corridor to listen for any more Others. This time there was dead silence. They cautiously went up the corridor in the direction Michael had been last seen. At the end of the corridor, a shadow protruded from around a corner.


	39. Rescue Party Reunion

Authors' Note: Thanks very much for the reviews, Zombie Kitty; it is quite reassuring to know that there is someone out there still following this. I'll make more of an effort to update more quickly. I have scenes for Jack in the future, but now I can try to think up something for Kate.

* * *

The rescue party reunites, and begins the journey home.

* * *

Alex told Michael and Walt that she should lead the way back, since the remaining Others were less likely to harm her. As she approached the corner of the hallway they were in with the main front tunnel that spanned the rooms near the entrance, she cast a shadow that reached into the intersection. She ducked down, and took a quick peak. There were three figures down the hall, none of them Others. In fact, one of them was the man who she had saved by deflecting one of the Others' gunshots.

"Hold your fire!" Sawyer command Sayid and Jin. Jin had to copy Sayid's lowering of his weapon when he didn't understand Sawyer's words. "That's the girl who saved me! Come on out, darling, it's all right. We took care of three more of those bastards."

"Three? That's all of them. We incapacitated the remaining two, who were coming from the mines." Alex called back to Michael and Walt, "You can come here now!" Alex looked farther down the corridor, spotting Sayid and Jin. Sayid had some blood on his shoulder, causing Alex to rush forward. "You're hurt. I can help you."

Sayid had forgotten about the bullet that had grazed his shoulder. "It's just a scratch, and not a problem."

Alex insisted, "There is medicine in this lab. Let me get you something for that."

"That can wait. I have to see who we came for."

Just then, Michael peered around the corner, saw that Alex's description was accurate, and motioned for Walt to follow. Sawyer was closest, and did a double take at the spectacle. The person accompanying Michael had the expected skin color, but much more skin showing than Sawyer expected. This person was far too tall, surprisingly muscular, and sported a comically sized Afro. Sawyer had to get a good look at the boy's face, which had a tentative expression, to ascertain the features were those of Walt.

Though he avoided showing it in public, Sawyer had a soft spot for children, especially those who had endured severe hardships, and a part of him wanted to run up to Walt and hug him. But that would have appeared so out of character for Sawyer. Sawyer could empathize with Walt, with Sawyer's own bad experiences witnessing his parents' violent death when he was a couple years younger than Walt was now. Sawyer thought for a second, wanting to stay in character and to come up with a one-liner Walt would appreciate. It would be better directed at Michael.

"Mike, you said we were coming here to get your son, not some leftover extra from a Tarzan movie."

Michael spluttered, but Walt broke into a huge grin. "What do you mean extra? I'm the star!" He pounded his chest to emphasize the point, and then gave Sawyer a high-five. Walt then rushed forward to greet Jin and Sayid. Jin, having seen the high-five, imitated the gesture. Sayid was prepared for a handshake, but felt it best to go along with the crowd in this case.

As Walt sped away from Michael and Sawyer, Michael recovered from Sawyer's quip and said, "Thanks man, you really cheered him up, like you're helping him get back to normal. Let's do that as fast as possible."

"Normal?" responded Sawyer. "That might take a while. There wasn't anything about him just now that strikes me as normal."

Michael looked at Sawyer. "Maybe you're right, but it can't hurt to get started. He's in good spirits now, so let's keep it that way."

Meanwhile, Alex had found a bottle of iodine the laboratory, and wiped Sayid's minor shoulder wound with it. Then she put on a bandage. They stepped outside into the hallway, joining up with the rest of the group.

"So what are we going to do with these … beings?" asked Sayid.

"I'll tell you what they deserve," spouted Michael. But Walt's look made Michael stop.

"I don't want to kill them, but can we must make sure they stay locked up forever?" questioned Walt.

Alex piped up. "Killing them now would make as almost as bad as they are. They are sick, and could only find this way of keeping themselves alive. Of course they had no right to use us in that manner, and they deserve to be locked up for the rest of their lives. Maybe a cure could be found. We have some time to think about it. But let's make sure they can't cause us any more trouble." Alex noted that all of the Others had been disarmed, but she found keys in the pockets of two of them. She led a room-by-room search for more weapons, and the group confiscated some more knives. When done, she declared, "We can give them some water bottles, and buckets for … bodily functions. Keep them all manacled to immovable objects for now, and we have all their keys. We can return in a few days when we're better prepared as to how we will treat them on a long-term basis."

The castaways agreed with Alex's voice of reason. Some of the unconscious Others were repositioned and manacled so they had enough movement to take care of themselves for a few days. It would be unpleasant, but virtually insignificant in comparison with what they had put Walt through.

That task accomplished, the group of six headed back toward the stairs that would lead up to the surface. But before ascending that stone staircase, Walt pointed out the other set of steps at the end of the hall.

"Dad, I saw you up there, with Sawyer and Jin, on that raft the day after the Others took me. There's a small room cut into that mountain that looks over the ocean. Seeing you gave me the strength to go on, knowing that you were alive and looking for me."

"I remember seeing a flash of light from a mountain. Somehow I felt that could be a signal from you."

"It was a signal! They gave me binoculars to look through, and I tried to bounce the sun's rays off the lens into your eyes. That really worked?"

Michael gave Walt another hug. "Yes, it worked. I'm sorry it took so long for me to recognize it. I didn't think anything of it at first. It took more than a month for me to realize its significance. And then I built a canoe – hey, you're going for a canoe ride now – but the monsoons hit, and delayed us for so long .. oh it was agony waiting for the opportunity to get to you. But enough of that, let's get out of here."

The group ascended the steps, and passed the powerboat that unfortunately was low on fuel. Maybe someday the islanders could process some. As they stepped out into the open, Walt and Alex had to shield their eyes from the bright sun they hadn't seen in months. Soon everybody was in the canoe, which Jin efficiently untied from the rocks and branches to which it had been moored. They paddled eastward along the north end of the island, through waves that seemed to be constantly increasing in intensity. Within minutes everyone was completely drenched, but it mattered not as the rowers were so determined to reach their goal. Shortly before sunset the vessel turned the northeast corner of the island, where Sun and Hurley had been waiting all day.


	40. Journeying Home

The group continues their trip home as Hurley chats with Walt and agonizes over what to tell Alex.

* * *

Sun and Hurley each did double takes as they saw who climbed out of the canoe. Besides the four men who set out early that morning, there were two figures who might have just walked off the set of an old jungle movie. They were hoping to see Walt, but the one figure that might have been him was too tall and sported an enormous Afro and a brief animal skin. The figure next to him was wearing a similar skin, but in addition had a matching top and was obviously female. Upon closer inspection, the male had Walt's facial features. Upon closer inspection, the female had features that Hurley in particular found eerily familiar.

Within seconds, Walt, Sun, and Hurley converged. Sun gave Walt a big hug, while Hurley and Walt exchanged high fives. Alex hung back, and more slowly came forward Walt then performed the introduction.

"Sun, Hurley, this is Alex. I never would have made it out of those mines if it wasn't for her."

Alex recognized the names from having been informed of the Others' discoveries months ago, and immediately replied, "Walt is being modest and only telling part of the story. I would still be down there if it weren't for him."

While Sun fussed over Alex for several seconds, Hurley realized it was his turn to try to help bring Walt back to normal. It was in Hurley's nature to be kind and helpful, though he wasn't always sure of the right thing to say.

"Modest? So what happened to you, Dude? Lose your shirt gambling on backgammon?"

Hurley gulped as Walt's face initially went blank from shock. Then Walt started laughing.

"Not quite. But I had to get out of there so I can collect on the eighty-three thousand dollars you owe me."

Hurley was relieved to see Walt take the joke so well. "You'll get it. It's just that I didn't bring much cash on the flight, and there's a serious shortage of ATM's on this island. Then you can buy yourself some better clothes and get a haircut!"

Now Walt was playing along. "What's wrong with this? Alex made this loincloth out of genuine boarskin. It's really comfortable. If you ask her nicely, I'm sure she'll make one for …"

Hurley interrupted while starting to laugh. "No thanks, dude. That looks a lot better on you than it would on me."

Walt continued, "And Alex says this hairstyle suits me just fine. It also provides a built-in pillow."

Hurley turned serious for a moment. "This Alex, you know she looks just like the French woman Danielle, only twenty-five or thirty years younger. I think Alex is her long-lost daughter."

"I think so too. Her story fits in. She says the Others told her that her parents died when she was a baby. She's been living with them her whole life, sixteen years and some months."

"Don't let her know yet, but Danielle is still around, and I have a means of contacting her. I'll let you know when the time comes."

Meanwhile, Michael, Sawyer, Jin, and Sayid were cleaning themselves off after getting off the canoe soaking wet from the high waves. On this occasion it had turned out that Walt and Alex had worn the much more appropriate attire. The four men wound up peeling off their shirts, wringing them out, and hanging them up to dry on tree branches. Shoes and socks also had to be removed, but pants stayed on due to Alex's presence. Sun giggled at the displays of masculinity, and then at an opportune moment ran up to him and hugged and kissed him. Jin didn't let go for a good minute.

Michael took the opportunity to pal around some with Walt. "You think you're hot stuff, but your old man still has bigger muscles than you." Father and son took turns feeling each other's biceps. Michael was speaking the truth, but at the rate Walt was growing, how long would it be for him to catch up? They would have to see Jack about that.

Having been forced to travel light, there was a severe lack of fresh clothes, but under the circumstances that was not an issue. Much more important was food and water, and the group, now numbering eight, enjoyed an island evening meal. The sun set, and it was time for bed. Their shelter consisted of some tarps that they had to carry in, with enough ropes and stakes to keep in it place.

Walt had trouble sleeping. He was not used to having a blanket covering him. Even though the night air outside was significantly cooler than the perpetually hot air in the mines, he would have preferred sleeping on top, but squirming out would have disturbed his neighbors, Michael on one side and Alex on the other. As a compromise Walt gently pushed the covering to waist level. It also felt strange to have so much freedom of movement. An hour after sunset, Walt could tell Michael was asleep, but Alex also seemed to be suffering a bit of insomnia.

"Alex, I know it's weird, but I can't sleep like this. I'd think I'd do better tied to the four stakes at the corners of this shelter."

"Come on Walt, you have to do this. You can relax. Think that you're too tired to stay awake. Maybe this will help."

Alex rubbed Walt's forehead, and scratched his head while running her fingers through his hair. It did seem to have a relaxing effect, and Walt soon closed his eyes. Alex gave him reassuring pats on his chest and stomach, whispering , "Good night, Walt."

Morning came, and the group quickly had breakfast and broke camp. The men's shirts had dried overnight, and Michael offered Walt his, but Walt adamantly refused. Michael felt it best to go along with his son's wishes in this case.

Since it was still easier to transport supplies in the canoe, it would still be used. Walt desperately wanted to ride in his father's creation, so Sawyer wound up walking along the shore with Sun, Hurley, and Alex. With his arm injuries, Sawyer didn't mind giving up his place on the canoe to Walt at all. On the other hand, Walt was eager to apply his muscles to an activity other than slave labor. It was like he was showing off, and happy to be farther away from those dreadful mines with each stroke of the paddle.

The current was more favorable for the homeward trip. Hurley was walking as fast as he could, wondering what he should say to Alex regarding Danielle. He was afraid of raising her hopes too high. Not being sure of what to say, he remained silent most of the way. Alex related the details of her life to Sun, who translated for Jin. Near the end of the day, Hurley spotted what he knew he had to face: a large tree by a bend in a river that came near the shore.

"Hey dudes, I've got to stop here."


	41. Waiting for Danielle

The castaways recount their adventures as the group waits for Danielle's arrival.

* * *

Hurley had spotted the large tree by a bend in a river that came close to the eastern shore, as described by Danielle. She had made him promise not to say anything to anyone about how to contact her, and he had agreed, but he did throw in a proviso about revealing that secret in case of emergency. Alex's return unquestionably qualified as an emergency. Hurley was compelled to explain. 

"I don't want to get everyone's hopes up too high, but Danielle entrusted me to with a way to contact her. I'm supposed to leave a message in the cutout area of this tree here. She said she'll check this daily. I guess we can write something and tell her we set up camp a little ways from here?"

This news came as a surprise to Alex. She had assumed she would just be going to the castaway's camp, and hope her mother would find her there, but now it looked like she might be much closer. "You mean my mother is close by?"

Sayid stepped forth, "Danielle is sure to see us before we see her under these circumstances. She has been under tremendous emotional strain, and we don't wish to frighten her. If she was here she would have let us know by now. I agree we should leave the message and make camp perhaps one hundred meters south of here, out of sight from that tree."

The group made camp, had their evening meal, and went to bed. This time Alex couldn't sleep. She whispered to Walt, next to her, "Walt, are you awake? I can't sleep. Do you really think my mother is here?"

Walt was doing a better job sleeping the second night he wasn't in chains. He was in fact mostly asleep and didn't feel like responding, but when Alex scratched his head, he let out a sigh of contentment, belying the fact he was at least partially awake.

"What is it? Oh yes, Hurley is very honest, and if he says your mother is around, I'm sure he's right. But if you can't sleep, there's something I wanted to do for you for a long time."

Walt glanced at Michael, who was on Walt's other side, again, and he was sound asleep.

"Here, turn over," he instructed Alex. "I owe you this." When she was on her stomach next to one edge of their makeshift tent, Walt rolled over onto his knees, scooted up next to her, and began massaging her back, trying his best to imitate the motions she had performed on him so many times. Her back was bare except for the strap for her boarskin top, so the task was not difficult. Her back and shoulder muscles were very tense, but she and Walt had time. After a few minutes Alex slowly began to relax.

"Walt, no one ever did this for me before. You have a talent for this."

"Only because you taught me so well."

No more words were exchanged that night, as Alex drifted off to sleep several minutes later. Then Walt lay back down and was soon asleep himself, grateful for the chance to repay Alex a little for all the massages that had helped get him through that awful ordeal.

When morning came, Sayid rose first, and went back to the tree and found that Hurley's message was still there. He returned and asked what everyone felt they should do.

Michael started, "Walt should see the doctor as soon as possible," but was immediately cut off by Walt.

"No! We're staying here until Danielle gets here! At least wait the one day since Hurley said she'll come by every day. They've been waiting more than sixteen years for this, and we can't let anything mess it up now." Walt folded his arms across his chest to emphasize his position.

Michael was torn, but couldn't bear the thought of Walt being unhappy at this point. Then he realized, "If yours and Alex's positions were reversed, and I was in Danielle's shoes, I would want you all to wait for me. All right then, I can stay. But it's up to everyone whether they want to go back to our camp or not."

Sun and Jin looked at each other. If they ever had a child, they would want him or her protected as much as possible in a similar situation. Hurley and Sayid, after having a few brief encounters with Danielle, wanted to see her again.

That would mean Sawyer would go back alone if he was that eager to. Rather than doing that, he offered, "Well, isn't this just cozy. If we're going to be stuck here, is there anything y'all would like to talk about?"

Walt assured Alex that this was Sawyer's way of being friendly. Walt responded, "We told you a lot of what happened to us. Why don't you tell us what's been going on with you?"

Michael answered, "We've been trying to find you all along. I've told you about the expedition around the island, where we found your old clothes used to rig that booby trap. And you know about that explosion when you and Locke were sending those messages. After that didn't work, I built the canoe, with help from Jin. Just as it was ready to go, an unbelievable sequence of monsoons struck. We were stuck in the caves for a solid month. When the rains finally let up enough, the canoe had been damaged, and Jin and I had to start almost from scratch.

There is something else. There was another rescue attempt through the caves, by Jack, Kate, and Danielle. The story I heard was that they blew open a solid metal door with some plastic explosives. There was some kind of machine inside, and it had tentacles, one of which grabbed Kate's leg and started to pull her away. The machine may have been some kind of security system. Anyway, Jack had to throw a couple of grenades to get Kate free, and there was a big explosion. Apparently there was a lot of fire, and some of the cave walls or ceilings may have collapsed. Kate was injured, with burns and cuts, but was healing all right when we left."

"When did this happen?" asked Walt.

"Oh, about a month ago," replied Michael. "Why? Were you aware of it?"

Walt and Alex exchanged glances, and then couldn't help smiling. Walt was excited to be the storyteller.

"Uh, yeah, we remember that. I was working in the mines way at that end when the explosion happened, and Alex was kind of nearby. The ceiling and back wall gave way, and I got completely buried in the mud that poured through. And I was standing straight up. I thought I was going to die. But then I was able to clear enough mud away from my head to hear Alex's voice. She got hurt, spraining her ankle. But if I couldn't have heard her I wouldn't have known which way to go. It was hard, and it took me a long time to climb my way out of there, and crawl along the top of the mound of mud to get to the opening of that tunnel into the main corridor. But a lot of good came out of that. After that Alex and I completely trusted each other."

Alex cut in. "Walt hasn't told you everything. At first, the Others had me completely under their control. I had to do a lot of their dirty work. There is something strange about this disease, but if they got too close to Walt, he wouldn't be able to sense the mineral he was mining. But for some reason my presence didn't affect him, probably because I used to have the same ability, but to a much lesser extent. That's why they wanted Walt, because children on this island have this ability, and I was getting too old for that purpose. But I was useful as a guide. I would bring him meals, and – I have to admit this – I was the one who put the chains on him almost every night. But there is something about Walt that made me change – to restore my desire to see the outside world. We had to learn to trust each other, and that cave-in finally did it."

Michael looked at Alex with surprise. "You … chained my son to that bed every night?"

Walt immediately answered, "She had to; they threatened us. If she didn't, then they would have …" Walt decided he may as well tell about the water torture now, to justify Alex's actions even though they didn't need any.

"You don't know all the horrible things the Others did. When they caught me communicating with Mr. Locke, they drugged me, and when I woke up, I was tied to a table like this. Completely stretched out."

Walt lay back on the ground with his arms and legs extended.

"I couldn't move at all. And then water started dripping on me. Here and here and here." Walt pointed to his forehead, chest, and navel in order. "They just left me alone like that. For like eight hours! I was going crazy, but luckily passed out. If Alex didn't chain me to the bed each night, they would have done something like that, or worse, to both of us more often. So don't blame Alex for anything. After I got buried in the mud, she was terrific for being able to lie to the Others, and help us to get rescued." Walt got back to his feet.

Michael again was disgusted at the way the Others treated Walt. Water torture on a ninety-nine percent nude ten-year-old boy. Walt may have looked eleven or twelve by then but that didn't matter. Michael thought he should have been rougher on the Others while he had the chance, and he was ashamed for thinking Alex might have done something awful. "I'm sorry, Alex, for reacting that way. I know you did what you had to, and I'm eternally grateful."

"Thank you, Michael," answered Alex. "Under the circumstances Walt had to be afraid of confiding in me, but that buried by mud thing did something to us. Would you like to hear how Walt affected me? He got me to laugh for the first time in … forever. He had almost made it to the end of the long pile of mud, but got careless and sank in very deep at the end. He looked so funny with the expression on his face then."

"Right up to here," interjected Walt, placing his hand horizontal to the ground at the top of his chest. "Guess we were so crazy we played in the mud a while. That was the one time I got the rest of the day off."

Sawyer let out a guffaw, and rubbed Walt's head. Michael gave Alex a big hug. Then someone else's voice was heard.

"It really is you – my Alex."

Everyone had been so absorbed in the conversation that Danielle had been able to approach them easily without being seen or heard. She had listened in on the conversation for a few minutes, long enough to understand what had happened to the two children who had been missing. She put down her rifle, and Alex ran up to her and gave her the biggest hug in either's life. Tears came readily, while words did not, though the latter were unnecessary to convey the feelings of mother and daughter.

After a few minutes, Danielle released Alex, and went to each of the castaways.

"Sayid, I am so sorry I treated you the way I did. If I had known …"

"It's all right, I might have reacted the same way you did if I were in your position. Good to see you again."

Next was Hurley. "You are a good man, and true to your word. I will always be in your debt."

"Um, thanks, but you don't owe me anything. Seeing you and Alex together is all I could ask for."

Danielle didn't really know Sawyer, Sun, or Jin, and thanked them politely for their help. She then turned to Michael.

"You have tremendous determination, and this has served you well. You have shown you will do anything within reason for your child. You have a most amazing son, dear Michael. You have done a great job raising him in the short time you have known him. His tenacity and sense of righteousness comes from you. Don't lose him again, and spend many wonderful years together."

"Uh, thank you. You give me too much credit. Parenting is hard, and I made mistakes at first, but I think we're getting the hang of it now."

Danielle turned to Walt. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his eyes.

"This is the boy I saw that day on the beach, the day you set sail on the raft. You have grown so much. The Others have abused you, done nasty things to you. They have robbed you of much of your childhood. But if it weren't for you, I probably never would have seen my Alex again. I can never thank you enough."

Walt had something to say. "Hey, it wasn't just me. If it weren't for Alex, I probably would have been a slave for the rest of my life. And even that might not have been for long; you can't tell with those guys."

"Thank you, Walt, in any case." Danielle slid her hands down Walt's arms.

"Now if you will excuse us, Alex and I have some catching up to do. I will take her to see your doctor tomorrow."

The castaways waved good-bye as Danielle led Alex to Danielle's current home, a bunker in the middle of the forest. There was no question that the two of them needed some time alone. When they were out of sight, they packed up, leaving the canoe behind, and headed for the caves, a journey that would take about half a day on a direct route.


	42. Jack's Physcial Examination of Walt

Jack gives Walt a physcial examination while Walt recounts his experiences.

* * *

It was early afternoon when the group of seven, Walt, Michael, Sawyer, Sayid, Sun, Jin, and Hurley made their triumphant return to the caves. Shortly before they came in sight, they were greeted by a four-legged creature, but fortunately one that barked. Vincent sprinted toward Walt, but hesitated for an instant. The Labrador's master looked a lot different from the last time he had seen him. But through all his trials, Walt's scent had remained recognizable, and soon Walt was giving Vincent a big hug while the pet licked Walt's face.

After a solid minute, the group resumed their march. Kate, Claire, and Charlie were outside, doting on Aaron. Kate heard the commotion first, stood in shock for a second, and gasped, "Look who's back!" pointing at the large group. Kate's wounds after the rescue attempt by her, Jack, and Danielle through the rooms and tunnels connected to the hatch, had healed quite well, thanks to the good doctor's attention. The burns and moderate cuts on her arms and legs, suffered when Jack had to throw the grenades at that Others' machine, were no longer visible, and she ran easily toward Walt and Vincent. She laughed to herself when she got a good look at how Walt was dressed, wondering if there was any way she could convince Sawyer or Jack to run around in a loincloth. As she got closer, she grew startled at how much he had grown, though the facial features were familiar.

"Walt! It's so good to see you!" Walt had to endure a hug. "You've grown so! And those muscles! What happened to you down there?"

A few seconds later Claire, carrying Aaron, and Charlie came up. Walt got another hug from Claire, and high-fived Charlie. They asked similar questions, and Walt responded,

"Hey, Aaron's got a lot bigger too!"

The baby was now four months old, and to Walt had obviously grown a lot since he had only seen Claire's child as a newborn.

Before Walt could get very far with his story, Michael and the rest of the group caught up, and Michael was insisting that Walt see Jack.

"I think Jack is in the caves, doing some doctor stuff I suppose," responded Kate.

"All right Walt, you can stay here until I find Jack." Michael rushed toward the caves to find Jack. Along the way he crossed paths with Shannon.

"You're back!" exclaimed the blonde. "Did you find … ?"

"Yes, we got Walt, he's right over there. I bet he'd like to talk with you."

Shannon hurried down the path from which Michael had come, and soon met up with a crowd.

Walt spotted her, and immediately said, "Thank you for taking good care of Vincent. I was sure you were the best choice."

Shannon hesitated, surprised like all the others by Walt's appearance. "You're welcome Walt, that was very kind of you. But Vincent did run off a few times. I didn't like tying his leash to a tree or something all the time, but he always eventually came back."

Walt was in too good a mood to complain. "That's all right. Now I know what it feels like to be tied up all the time, and I don't want to do that to Vincent ever again."

"You were tied up all the time? Like that?"

Walt gave a quick explanation to everyone at once. "I wasn't really tied up all the time. Pretty much only at night when I got chained to a bed. During the day those Others had me working in these mines, digging out some mineral that I have some crazy ability to detect."

While Walt was giving his explanation, Michael had found Jack in the caves. Before Jack could say anything, Michael blurted out, "Jack, we found Walt and brought him back. He's been through a terrible ordeal. He's been slaving away in the mines for months. He looks healthy, but told me the Others gave him injections from time to time that … seem to have made him grow quite fast. The French woman's daughter was also there, and we got her out and reunited with Danielle. They're together now, and may pay you a visit tomorrow. But I want you to give Walt a complete physical now. I'm warning you, he looks a lot different."

Jack was amazed at Michael's tale, but quickly replied, "Of course, bring him in, I'll set up everything I need." Jack expected Michael was exaggerating, as some worried parents might, but as Walt entered the caves, Jack took a look at him and almost swallowed his tongue. The boy looked six inches taller, and sported an Afro that added another foot to his height. He looked much more muscular, which was obvious because he was wearing very brief shorts. To be honest, they looked more like an African native's loincloth from any number of old movies. Having been criticized for his bedside manner in the past, Jack fumbled for something appropriate to say.

"Great to have you back, Walt, but you know you don't have to disrobe before entering the doctor's office."

Walt chuckled. "Hi Doctor Jack. I haven't had anything else to robe since soon after I was kidnapped. But I didn't need anything else; it was hot down there all the time. It felt funny at first, but I got used to them, and they're really comfortable. Alex made them for me. I outgrew a few of them. And it's good to see you, too."

Jack composed himself and remembered what it was like to act like a doctor.

"That's interesting, Walt. Now hop onto this table, and lie down."

Walt did as instructed. Jack began his examination as Michael looked on. Walt's heartbeat was strong and regular, though slow like a well-conditioned athlete, his respiration normal, and his reflexes fantastic. But what surprised Jack the most was Walt's growth. Instead of the skinny ten-year-old Jack had known, Walt resembled a very well developed thirteen or fourteen year old. After sitting up, Walt got a kick out of flexing his muscles as Jack requested.

"Now your father tells me you were given some injections. Please describe them."

"Oh, those were awful. They hurt so much for a minute that I had to be tied to a chair or bed to stop me hurting anyone. After the pain stopped, I felt some kind of tingling in my head. It gave me the ability to sense this mineral the Others were after. They claimed they were sick and needed it for their cure. But there were side effects, mainly this rapid growth. I had to cut my finger and toenails every day, and my hair got kind of long."

Walt patted his Afro as if wasn't too big a deal.

"This may be serious, Walt, but thank goodness you won't have any more of those injections. Do you remember when you got them?"

"Pretty much. I got the first one like the day after they took me. The second was right after I tried to communicate with Mr. Locke. The third was right after that explosion when I got buried in mud up to here." Walt held his hand up a little higher than his head.

Michael had to explain. "Remember when you and Kate, and Danielle tried to blast through those doors you found in the hatch? Apparently that caused a cave-in in the tunnel Walt was working in at the time."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Jack. "We had no idea you could be hurt by that."

"It worked out all right. I was scared for a little while, but then I could hear Alex's voice when I got the mud cleared away from my head. I was stuck pretty good, but I was standing on the floor. It took at least an hour to get out of that. Oh, and then I crawled and walked along the top of the mud pile, and when I got near the end, I sank in real deep again and made Alex laugh for the first time. We cooperated much better after that."

Jack was astounded. "Well, I'm glad that episode worked out all right for you. Is there anything else I should know?"

Walt glanced at Michael, but hiding things from the doctor wasn't a good idea. "Well, there was the one time I almost went crazy. It was right I was tapping those messages with Mr. Locke. The Others punished me by tying me to a table, and letting water drip on me. They knocked me out with something – chloroform? – and when I woke up, I was all stretched out, like this."

Walt re-enacted the water torture by lying back on the table and extending his limbs. "I couldn't move my arms and legs at all. And then water was dripping from a pipe, landing on me here and here and here." Walt tapped his head between his eyes, the center of his chest, and his navel in succession. "They just left me there, for hours. I felt like I was going to go mad."

Jack was revolted at the description. It was a wonder Walt hadn't lost his mind, and Jack asked, "How did you avoid going mad?"

Walt continued, "It was weird, but I pictured what I would look like as a comic book character. I just realized, Mr. Locke once said I should picture things in my mind's eye. Well, I pictured someone helplessly spread-eagled and dressed in just a silly little loincloth, and I thought it so funny I passed out laughing. But I was terrified of the Others for weeks and months after that. They made Alex chain both of my hands and feet to my bed every night after that, but not tightly, more like this."

Walt moved his hands to the side of his head, so that his elbows were bent at the familiar right angles.

"Before then it was usually only one hand or foot. After it was so annoying lying there so helpless each night. But I got used to it, and then was disgusted that I was used to it, like it was normal. I hated living in fear like that, but I got over it by something strange. The last time I was injected, I had Alex chain me very tightly to my bed. The Others made her give me the last two injections. I had to be restrained anyway, and I wanted to conquer my fear of the Others. It worked, after ten or fifteen minutes it was over. Alex and I trusted each other completely after that, and we figured out how to cooperate with a rescue effort. But am I weird for wanting to be tied down like that? The previous times I was injected I was tied to a chair."

Jack didn't know what to say at first. Then he decided, "Walt, after what you have been through nothing can be considered weird. It sounds unusual, but it makes sense in a way under those circumstances. Frankly, it's a miracle your mind didn't snap. I think we're done here, I just like to conduct a few tests outside."

Jack had Walt do some calisthenics. Walt did sixty pushups in a minute, and twenty-three pull-ups hanging from a tree branch. Tucking his toes under a tree root and his hands behind his head, he performed two hundred sit-ups in five minutes. He climbed vines easily, making Jack wish that he had had that relative strength when he needed to be rescued by Locke while hanging from that cliff. Next came some running, and Michael had to agree Walt was much faster than before.

"Like an Olympic athlete," mused Jack. "But he would probably fail a drug test right now with what he's been injected with."

Walt's body was glistening with sweat, but Jack had another test in mind. "Since you're dressed for it, how about a little swim?"

"I'm not that great at swimming, but I can try. Actually I'm sure the water would feel good about now."

Walt, Michael and Jack walked to pond a short distance from the caves. Walt stepped in, and soon was tearing through the water at triple his previous best pace. Back and forth several times, amazed at his ability. But he would have gone faster if it weren't for his massive mop of hair.

"I think that's enough for today, Walt," said Jack. "Let's go back to the caves. I'd like a sample of your blood and your hair. Sayid built a microscope while you were away, and it will come in handy now."

Michael suddenly noted, "Sayid! He was shot, rather grazed by a bullet in the rescue. He insists it's no big deal, but you should have a look at it, Jack."

Naturally the parent was more concerned with his child, but forgetting a bullet wound seemed unusual. But knowing Sayid, it probably really wasn't all that serious, or something he couldn't.

"I'll see Sayid right after this."

Jack's needle was nothing compared to the injections Walt had been experienced with the Others. Having collected the samples, Jack announced, "Walt appears to be in the best physical condition of anyone I've ever seen his age. I'd still like to run some tests, and won't know the results until tomorrow. In the meantime, I suggest you get a haircut. I saw Claire giving Charlie one shortly before you were kidnapped; I'm sure she'll be glad to do it."


	43. Locke, Walt, and a Haircut

Author's notes: Thanks to AM8---- for some encouraging words that shall enable me to bring this to a proper conclusion in the not too distant future.

* * *

Walt meets up with Locke, who gets a nice surprise as a result,and Claire gives Walt a long overdue haircut.

* * *

Jack, Walt and Michael left the caves; the first looking to treat Sayid, and the last two to look for Claire for the much needed haircut. Jack quickly located Sayid, who was describing the rescue expedition to Shannon, and insisted on seeing the Iraqi's bullet wound.

"It is just a flesh wound, not too serious," responded Sayid, showing Jack the shoulder.

"Perhaps you are right, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious."

Shannon gave Sayid a look implying the doctor was right, and soon Jack was treating the long, wide scrape. Jack cleaned the wound and then disinfected it with alcohol. He administered a single shot of antibiotics.

"You are probably right, but there should be no question you are fine now."

Meanwhile, outside Walt realized something. "Where's Mr. Locke? He doesn't know I'm back yet. I want to see him before it gets dark."

There was a momentary silence. Then Hurley spoke up.

"He goes off by himself a lot. I can show you the general area."

Michael hesitated, but realized this meant a lot to Walt.

"Fine, why don't you show us, Hurley? Walt's hair can't grow that much in a few minutes, right?" Then directed at Walt, "Then we can find you some decent clothes. I suppose you couldn't pull a shirt over that stylish 'Fro of yours." Michael couldn't resist scratching Walt's head.

Hurley led the father and son down a trail, calling out Locke's name from time to time.

Locke had been sitting on a fallen tree, holding his crutches and meditating. He didn't feel like being with anyone, but Hurley's voice was too insistent to ignore. Eventually Locke responded, "All right, Hurley, what is so important?"

"There is someone who wishes to see you."

Hurley stepped back, by Michael, allowing Walt to advance in the direction of the voice. Walt saw Locke sitting on the log, not even looking up, perhaps feeling sorry for himself. But that was going to change.

"Hello, Mr. Locke. It's good to see you again."

Locke's head snapped up, his face betraying shock. He had to blink his eyes, not believing the sight in front of him. A boy of thirteen or fourteen with a comically gigantic Afro and a well developed set of muscles plainly visible due to his costume, a brief animal skin loincloth. The voice was too deep, and he was far too tall, but the facial features were unmistakably Walt's.

"Walt? Is that really you?"

"Yes, Mr. Locke, I'm back. How are you?" Walt looked with some sadness at the crutches.

"Now that you're back I'm fine." Locke got up on his crutches to confirm the point. "Maybe you heard, my legs were broken in an avalanche when the Others dynamited the region where we were tapping those messages through the rockslide. That was very clever of you, tapping the letters according to their place in the alphabet. But I was so afraid of the consequences for you after that. What did they do to you? It's looks like you've been stretched on a rack!"

Walt couldn't help but smile and then he repeated the description of his fate. "You're not that far off. They did stretch me out on a table for several hours, and tried to break me with their stupid water torture. I couldn't move my arms or legs at all, and water kept dripping on me here, here, and here." Walt tapped his forehead between his eyes, the center of his chest, and his navel. "I almost did lose it, but something you said got me through it. You mentioned picturing things in my mind's eye. I had to concentrate on something to stop from going mad, and pictured myself as a comic book character, helplessly spread-eagled and wearing only this loincloth; or actually a smaller one that I outgrew. Somehow I found the image so hilarious I passed out laughing. And when I woke up it was over."

Locke was flabbergasted by the story. "I … am glad that little talk helped you out. But I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Walt continued, "There's more. Actually I was working in the mines all day, extracting some mineral the Others said they needed, and was chained hand and foot to a bed at night. But there was this girl named Alex there, who turned out to be the Frenchwoman's daughter, and we helped each other after that. She's with her mother now. Also, the knife throwing practice came in handy. Dad and I each had to take out one of the Others that way. They're now all tied up down there."

"I think that's enough for now, Walt. You can tell me more if you like later. Looks like it's about time to get back, and have a good evening meal."

With his spirits much higher than a half hour before, Locke hobbled along behind Walt as they rejoined Michael and Hurley, and then realized he had forgotten his crutches. "My legs!" he exclaimed, causing the other three to turn around in amazement. "They're practically healed!" Locke tried to figure out why he didn't need his crutches any more. "Walt, just seeing you and hearing your tale must have done something for me. Thank you."

As they got back to the caves, the word apparently had gotten out that someone was due for a haircut. Claire was standing by a chair with a scissors in her hand. Walt put on a bit of show as he plopped down in the seat with a look of disappointment. Claire was willing to go along with the gag.

"Now why on earth could anyone possibly think you need a haircut?"

"Oh, Dad says now that I'm back in civilization, I have to start wearing shirts again, and I can't pull one over my head with my hair like this."

Claire gave a little laugh. "Parents can be so unreasonable at times, can't they?"

"You're darn right! I've been comfortable like this for a long time. Oh wait, you've been a mother for like, four months now? I didn't mean…"

"That's all right." Claire laughed again. "Aaron has had about as much use for new clothes as you have, apparently. But it's time to get started. What will it be? Do you like Mr. Locke's hairstyle? Perhaps a nice Mohawk. Or maybe you prefer dreadlocks?"

"I'd look cool in dreads! But maybe Dad would freak out. Why don't we just make it an even centimeter all around this time? We can try the dreads next time. I don't know; my hair might still grow fast. Just save some of it for Alex; she really likes my hair this way."

Claire set about the task. With surprising efficiency, her snips with the scissors methodically sent long, curly strands of black hair fluttering to the ground. In fifteen minutes Walt's hair was looking just like it did the day he left on the raft. Walt saved some strands of hair for Jack as requested, and wrapped a bunch in a big leaf for Alex.

As Michael looked at the finished result, Walt commented,

"You know, Dad, I really don't want to be taller than you. Some day, probably, but not yet."

Michael scratched Walt's now centimeter-long hair. Then Sawyer came along, with a shirt and a pair of shorts from his stash. He didn't have any shoes in Walt's size, but Walt's feet had grown so tough by now that was no big deal. The thought crossed Sawyer's mind that he should ask Walt for something in exchange, but that just seemed too inappropriate. For the first time in one hundred ten days Walt dressed for dinner. The clothes were not very comfortable, but it was something he could easily put up with after all he had been through. Everyone gathered around to celebrate his return for their most festive meal since the plane crash.

Afterward, there was discussion on what to do about the Others. There was the most support for locking them up somehow, perhaps in the underground labyrinth. But as the sun had set, a final decision could wait for the next day.


	44. Moving Day and Test Results

Danielle and Alex move, while Walt's test results come in and another attempt is made to break into the mines.

* * *

Alex and Danielle had a long talk well into the night. It wasn't nearly enough time to describe their adventures of the past sixteen years, but as it grew quite late, Alex remarked,

"I can't image living alone for so long. Isn't it time we lived in a real community?"

"Whatever you want, my dear Alex. We can build a home on the beach starting tomorrow. This place – this bunker I've lived in for so long – has no good memories. It is time to move."

"Thank you mother. These are good people. I want to get as far away from those Others as possible."

When morning came, Danielle and Alex made the trip carrying some of Danielle's possessions. As they agreed, Jack would give Alex a physical examination.

"Good to meet you, Alex," greeted Jack. "I've heard a lot about you since yesterday. You sound like quite an amazing young woman to have gone through what you did and perform so well in a crisis. Now I need to know, did those Others give you injections like they gave Walt?"

"They tried a few injections a long time ago, but nothing that affected me like the injections they gave Walt, Doctor … Jack. No pronounced growth spurts, if that's what you mean. By the time they figured out what they wanted to accomplish, I was too old for them."

"Well, I guess that's fortunate for you. Have you had any other injuries or illnesses I should know about?"

"Actually I've been pretty healthy. Oh, I did sprain my ankle in a cave-in accident about a month ago. Walt almost got killed by being buried in mud and debris. But he got out of it, and we worked much better together after that."

"Oh, right, Walt told me about that." Jack sighed. "To tell the truth, I threw the grenades that touched off that mudslide, to get some machine to release its hold on Kate. If only we had known, we could have tried something else. Maybe you know something about this machine?"

"You had no way of knowing we were nearby, and were doing your best to rescue us. I believe that machine was a security system. It was stationed at the far southern end of the mines. Your explosion did a lot of damage to it, and the Others were trying to repair it when your group rescued us."

Alex thought for a moment.

"With the machine inoperable, we could break through to the mines form this end by clearing some rocks, if done in a safe manner."

Jack made a mental note of that and went on with the physical exam. Alex was in above average condition by everything he measured, but not extraordinarily so. Steady, slow pulse, quick reflexes, good agility and strength for her age. Jack took a blood sample and a strand of hair for further testing, like he did for Walt the day before.

Jack had let Walt's blood sample react with some chemicals overnight. He sought Walt and Michael out to inform them of his findings. Once he found them, he explained.

"First, it is impossible to say with any great accuracy how much longer Walt will grow quickly based on what I can do here. But based on his hair samples, my best guess that he will experience accelerated growth for another month or two. This drug appears to wear off over time, and I have some idea by examining the hair under Sayid's microscope. There are stretches were hair growth, and the correlated body growth, slow down. The root of the hair indicates Walt has not reached that stage yet from his latest injection. However, samples from the middle of the strands show the rapid growth will decelerate over time. It appears that Walt's last injection was given at a time where his growth had slowed down."

Walt nodded. "That makes sense. I was having a harder time sensing their mineral before that last shot. All these things seemed related."

Jack continued, "You must be aware of the possibility that Walt will reach his full adult height in approximately two months. Beyond that, I don't have any data to estimate his final height. We'll know more in a month or two. It's quite possible Walt will stop growing then, and there's a fair chance he will wind up a few inches taller than he would have without those injections. In any case I'm sure it's a good thing they stopped when they did."

Michael and Walt weren't going to disagree with that.

"Now there is one more important result I was able to determine from Walt's blood sample. Walt, I imagine you didn't get any natural sunlight or much in the way of dairy products these last few months, have you?"

"No, I was underground the whole time, and had mostly fruit juice and water to drink. What's wrong?"

"Now don't be alarmed, but you have a serious Vitamin D deficiency, and it must be attended to immediately. Our diets on this island are rather low in that vitamin, but being outside a fair amount of the time that hasn't affected us to any significant extent. But what you need to do is spend several hours each day in the sun. Best would be a couple hours each in the morning and late afternoon. Too much direct sun around noon is going too far. There's a chance your skin might be able to handle that, but we don't need to take that risk. In any case, you should move to the beach, and I mean today. And, well, I may as well say this directly. The ideal attire for you, Walt, are those charming outfits your friend Alex made for you."

Walt laughed while Michael's face showed a concerned expression. Then he recovered.

"Building a beach house would make a great father-son project. We may be starting from almost nothing, but the challenge will make it interesting."

Walt ran over to Vincent, who had been waiting in the shade of a nearby tree.

"Did you hear that, Vincent? We're moving to the beach, and building a beach house. Let's go!"

Walt couldn't wait to get started, and Michael had to hurriedly gather a few clothes and belongings from the caves to catch up. They met up with Danielle and Alex on the beach. Alex jumped a little at her first sight of the new Walt, with much more clothing and much less hair.

"Good morning Walt. You look … a lot different today." She looked a little disappointed.

"Hello Alex. Yeah, I got a haircut, but I saved some of it for you. I know you liked it that way."

To Alex's surprise, Walt handed her a mass of cut hair wrapped in the leaves. Nonetheless, she appreciated the gesture.

"Why, thank you."

"You're welcome. And one other thing. The doctor says I have a big vitamin D deficiency and need to spend a lot of time in the sun, preferably in the loincloths you made. I hope you won't mind."

Now it was Alex's turn to laugh.

"I think I can manage to put up with that. But only if you let me play with your dog. Of course the Others never let me have pets."

"Deal. Vincent is friendly, see, he likes you."

Meanwhile, news of the quick way to access the mines connected to the hatch spread quickly. More plans were made to remove the multitude of rocks blocking the machine rooms and connecting passages. Upon breaking through, the islanders would have access to equipment of the Others, and it would be easier to lock them up somehow. While Michael, Walt, Danielle, and Alex were moving to the beach, a crew with Jack, Kate, Locke, Sawyer, and Sayid organized the project. Jin, Sun, and Hurley remained on top in case of trouble. The work was tedious, but similar to that when they were digging Locke out from the avalanche nearly three months before, so they were efficient about it. After a few hours, a rock from the top of the pile was rolled away, and they could look into the machine room. Collecting weapons just in case, they crawled over the top.


	45. Resolution

Authors' Note: To those few loyal readers still out there, thank you for your support. I can tell by the dwindling number of hits on the latest chapters that this tale has run on long enough, so I have decided to end it. I did my best to tie up the loose ends. Reviews were never a big concern for me, but if you have any inclination to do so now, I would appreciate it. This has been much more work than I anticipated, and I plan never to do anything like this again. I have known what my final sentence will be for several months now, and it is time to put in into electronic print. Thank you.

* * *

The Others are dealt with as the survivors make living arrangements on the beach. Walt's closing words thrill Michael.

* * *

Locke was the first to crawl over the top of the rocks that allowed passage into what was apparently the computer room. Inside were several mangled machines, mostly computers that had been damaged by the partially collapsed ceiling. Soon Locke was followed by Jack, Kate, Sayid, and Sawyer. Cautiously they made their way through piles of twisted metal and tangled wire, to the door where the security machine had sent out a tentacle had grabbed Kate a month before. She had been released her when Jack threw grenades, which in turn had caused the mudslide that had buried Walt. But now there was only silence. The security machine had only been partially repaired, but now was impotent. 

"We have to keep moving," announced Locke.

At the opposite end of this room was a heavy metal door that opened onto the twenty-second, or last-but-one, corridor of the southern section of the mines. Rocks lay about the edges of this hallway, but enough of a passageway had been cleared to permit an easy passage. The quintet proceeded into the main corridor. Taking peeks into the side corridors, they saw many places where Walt had excavated the mineral his christened "otherite."

The group made their way into the central chamber. To the east where sixteen more corridors where Walt had toiled extracting the ore precious to the Others. To the west was a shallow stream, which flowed southward through a metal grate.

"I bet that's the same stream we saw at the end of the tunnel past that metal door we just came through!" exclaimed Kate.

Locke thought it over and agreed. "I'm sure you're right. The layout makes sense."

To the south of the central chamber was the corridor that led past Walt's and Alex's rooms. The group took a good look at the former, a gut-wrenching sight. The room was empty now save for the bed with chains and manacles attached to the legs, and the two chairs and small table, and some rope on the floor. At least Alex's room had a bed without chains.

Next they winded their way around a corner to the corridor Sayid and Sawyer were now familiar with. Guns drawn, they entered the various rooms where the Others had been chained or tied up. They were all still securely bound, and feeling quite miserable. One at a time, they were released so they could wash up and be examined by Jack. There were a few broken bones and some large cuts, but Jack, having taken his medical bag, was able to treat them satisfactorily.

In an hour the Others were assembled into the room next to the laboratory. With time no longer of the essence, the plane crash survivors had time to calmly chain them to heavy objects. An explanation came from the leader.

"It's like we told Walt, we were on a geologic mission here and developed some sort of disease when an experiment went bad. Our only hope for survival was to create a cure that needed a mineral found only these mines. We were gradually getting better thanks the amount Walt did mine, but we still need to process more to be completely cured."

"That doesn't give you the right to kidnap and torture children!" thundered Locke.

"We know, but that is not how the thought process works when you're suffering from this disease. All you can think of finding a cure. It was the only way. You will note that Walt and Alex aren't permanently damaged."

"It is because of that that you are being allowed to live," continued Locke. "But be prepared for a life sentence. Besides, how can you say Walt wasn't damaged when he's growing so fast?"

"We believe the rapid growth will stop in a month's time. Walt will be fine. In fact, he is in better condition now than we got him. Surely your doctor saw that."

It was Jack's turn to speak. "Sure, Walt appears to be in great shape physically, but it wasn't natural. And he has a serious Vitamin D deficiency thanks to you keeping him underground all the time with a very limited amount of that vitamin in his diet. Fortunately I caught that in time, and he will recover with enough time in the sun."

"We're sorry, we didn't realize. But what's done is done, we're glad to hear he will be okay. So what is going to happen to us?"

Locke answered, "You will be confined to a few rooms here, under permanent guard. In the event we are rescued, the appropriate authorities will deal with you. Now what about that boat; do you have more fuel for it?"

"No, we used up most of what we had left to get Walt off the raft. We needed someone of his age, and saw our last chance of survival floating away, and had to act.

I suppose we'll just stay here. Just let us synthesize more of our cure, and we won't be a medical burden to you."

That course of action was taken. Under constant guard, the Other's lab experts made enough of their substance to live healthy lives, but at the cost of permanent incarceration.

Sayid was encouraged to have access to so much new scientific equipment. "There is a chance I can doing something with this equipment, like make a radio transmitter. It may take some time, but it's a chance. We might be able to go out a little ways onto the ocean to send a signal from there."

Sayid and Sawyer took up the first shift on guard duty, though with the Others stripped of all weapons and confined to plain, locked rooms, there wasn't much to that task. Jack, Kate, and Locke returned to the hatch through the mines, a much shorter route than sailing around the island to the mountainous northern shore, and informed Jin, Sun, and Hurley, who had been waiting at the hatch entrance this whole time, of the prison arrangements.

The threat from the Others gone, and the security of the caves no longer needed, the survivors went back to living on the beach. Jin and Sun restored their tent, and Claire, Charlie, and Aaron were in another. Sayid's and Shannon's were next to each other, while Locke and Sawyer each preferred to keep a bit of a distance from everyone else. Jack, Kate, and Hurley each had their own, while Alex and Danielle got a lot of help setting up a new one of their own.

Michael and Walt were making progress on their house, cutting down trees and sawing them into logs. It would take a few days, but it was terrific having such a father-son project. As per Jack's recommendations, to slowly increase his Vitamin D level to a healthy mark Walt spent the days in the loincloths Alex made, keeping to the shade during the hours closest to noon. Walt felt a little strange, but put up with it without complaining. Vincent seemed to think it was a little odd, but it was so good to have his master back to play with every day the Labrador went along with it. Michael sensed this uneasiness and conspired with Alex on a novel solution.

The next morning when Michael woke Walt up, Walt rubbed his eyes, and gulped, and then burst out laughing. Michael was standing there in his own loincloth, larger and covering more, but still the same kind Alex made.

"I feel I need to experience what you're going through," was Michael's explanation. "Just for one day, but that should be enough."

"You're the greatest, Dad. Having you here, and Vincent, is infinitely more important than getting off this island."

"Well, I still want to get out of here some day, but it doesn't seem so urgent now."

"Same here." Walt considered for a moment, and then continued with a sentence that made Michael the happiest man on the planet.

"Dad, I want my last name legally changed to Dawson."


End file.
